Tales from the West: Age of the Undead
by Death Valley Reaper
Summary: It's 1899. The Age of Outlaws is coming to an inevitable end. It is the dawn of a new age where civilization is assimilating into a brand new, more modern society. However, after the arrival of a suspicious box from overseas, strange things begin to occur and a mysterious pestilence spreads, awakening the dead across the land. And the future is something far darker than expected.
1. A New Day

**Due to my current addiction to Red Dead Redemption 2, my love for Left 4 Dead, and after seeing Linkin Park's Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter trailer, I got the idea to conjure this story up. However, I still consider this as another project my friends and I are working on. So please give them credit too. **

**Anyway...let's ride, shall we?**

* * *

"_Fourscore and seven years ago…"_

Gettysburg was a bloodbath. He stood in a daze trying to survey everything going on around him.

"Fire!"

A cannon was fired at the oncoming Confederates, taking out several of them.

"…_our fathers brought forth, on this continent…"_

"Look out, soldier!"

A fellow Union soldier pushed him out of the way as a stray bullet whizzed by.

"…_a new nation, conceived in liberty…"_

Then, emerging from the mist across them were more of the Confederate Army. And they were running right towards them. Curiously, they were not holding any weapons. They were just running hands free like wild animals.

"…_and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal."_

The last thing he saw was the…canine fangs…of one of those soldiers running towards him.

* * *

He awoke in cold sweat, panting. He looked around him. Nope. He wasn't in Gettysburg. He was in bed. In his home.

No cannons. No muskets. No rifles. No flags. No soldiers. Nothing.

Just him.

All alone.

He sighed in relief.

"Another nightmare."

Things weren't easy for Sergeant William Overbeck, or Bill as he liked to be called. The elderly Union veteran still had nightmares of his time during the war. He had lost many friends, comrades, brothers…

"_Oh, we used to hold each other in the war."_

Memories of the Civil War still haunted him. Almost none of them were pleasant. He thought about the battles, how bloody they were, as well as the address given by President Lincoln at Gettysburg. Yes. He was there to listen to it.

He just shook his head.

"What am I doing dwelling on the past? That was years ago."he told himself.

He sat down at his table, in deep thought, reflecting on the dream he just had. On the bright side, he got to see several of his dead friends again. It was refreshing to see their familiar faces. Even if they were just in a dream.

But that did nothing to brush off the strange feeling he had in his stomach. He thought that something was rather, "off" about the Confederate soldiers. He wondered why they weren't carrying any weapons. What kind of soldiers don't carry any weapons when they charge into battle?

"And what the hell were they doing biting my comrades on the necks?"

None of it made sense to him.

And besides, it was just a bad dream after all, right?

* * *

Nicolas DeBlasio was a con artist. He knew how to hoodwink people. He was smart, intelligent, cunning. That was what made him very well suited to being in the Van der Linde gang. Not to mention he was someone with a very formal sense of fashion. He always liked to dress in the best suits and jackets, even if they didn't quite give him the outlaw look.

He was standing in the mirror checking his reflection. Damn. Did he look good in that jacket.

"Mr. DeBlasio, please return that to Dutch's tent."

"What's the big deal, Miss Grimshaw?" Nick asked the gang's arbiter.

"The big deal is that you just took Dutch's jacket without asking him first."

"Well what would you expect? I'm an outlaw. We're all outlaws in this gang. We take things from people." Nick responded.

Susan Grimshaw just shrugged.

"Fair point. But just put that back where you got it. Manners still matter, you know."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"Will do."

Susan walked off, shaking her head. Then came Hosea Matthews, who walked towards Nick.

"Morning there, Nick." he greeted.

"Morning there, Hosea. Sleep well?"

"Very well. Thank you for asking."

There was silence for a while.

"I must admit, you look good in that jacket." Hosea spoke up, breaking the silence.

"Thanks. But I gotta put it back before Dutch sees me wearing it. I don't want him to kill me." said Nick.

"Don't worry, Nicky. Your secret is safe." Hosea said with a wink.

"Tell that to Miss Grimshaw. She was the one who caught me."

They looked to the distance and saw Sadie Adler, practicing knife fighting with no one in particular.

"How's she holding up?" Nick asked.

"She's still grieving." said Hosea. "But she's doing a whole lot better. Mrs. Adler's a strong one, she is."

"Damn right." Nick agreed. "I mean…remember how she killed those O'Driscolls before they had the chance to jump on us?"

Hosea chuckled.

"We all remember that."

Then out of nowhere, a gruff voice spoke up.

"Mornin' fellers."

The two men looked to see a mustachioed man heading towards them.

"Good morning, Arthur. Shaved the beard, I see?" Hosea greeted the man.

"Yeah. But as you can see, I kept the mustache. I like it too much."

"Can't blame you. It's always worth having cool facial hair." said Nick with a smirk.

Arthur scoffed in amusement.

"Any plans today, Arthur?" Hosea asked.

"Yeah. Planning on going hunting for more food with Charles, then we're gonna head to the saloon for drinks and a…couple of other things. Wanna come with?"

"I'll go!" said Nick.

"Sounds great, Nick. But be prepared for a whinefest, because we're taking Francis with us." said Arthur.

Nick groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Why does he have to come along?" he asked.

"We're trying to make him even more productive. When he ain't fighting, he's just as lazy as Uncle." Arthur responded.

"Hey, I got lumbago, you know?" said Uncle, who was walking by.

"Excuses, excuses, excuses…" muttered Arthur.

Charles Smith walked up to Nick and Arthur, holding his sawed-off shotgun at the ready.

"You guys ready to go?" he asked the other two men.

"Yep. I'm ready." said Nick.

Arthur nodded as well.

"Great."

The three men walked to their horses and quickly mounted them.

"Francis, come on! Let's go!" Charles shouted to the tall, goateed gang member who was drinking at a table with Reverend Swanson.

"What?! But I got lumbago too!" the outlaw responded.

"You're not old like Uncle. At least he can use that as an excuse. And plus, I saw you carrying a bunch of firewood yesterday without a problem. Now, let's get going, greaseball!" said Nick.

Francis grumbled. He pushed his glass aside and then walked over to the other men and mounted his Shire.

"Fine. But I hate hunting."

"Of course you do. You hate everything." said Arthur. "I hate things too. Such as your annoying ass."

"Shut. Up. Morgan." replied Francis.

Arthur just laughed.

"I know you love me."

With that, the quartet on horseback rode off from Horseshoe Overlook.

Hosea watched them ride off with a smile on his face. But the smile faded away as quickly as it appeared.

"What was that dream last night all about?"

* * *

**That's gonna be it for now. The first few chapters of this story are gonna be relatively calm, but I assure you that the action will come before the tenth chapter.**

**Also, I would like to apologize for the fact that Duty Or Death still hasn't been updated. My friend is very busy with thesis papers and I still have some writer's block, but we plan to publish the next chapter when we can. Keep an eye out for it. I promise you, it's coming soon. **


	2. The Dead Walk Among You

"Wake up! It's go time!"

The young farmhand yawned as he stretched. He cocked his head to the glassless window to stare at the morning sun slowly rising above the hills.

He smiled.

"What a mighty fine day." he said.

Unlike most of his coworkers who got exhausted easily, young Ellis McKinney was always confident and upbeat, always willing to get the job done no matter how tiring it was. He was also quite the comedian and storyteller, since he always tried to keep everyone else levelheaded when times were tough. And as a result, Ellis was well-liked by everyone. They had complete trust in him.

He just wished his boss, the ranch's owner, Wade Tyler, could respect him more.

All the workers gathered together to listen to their ringleader give his commands.

"Alright, men. Since we're expanding the stables, we got some heavy wooden joists to move. Gonna be lots of hammering too. It's gonna take a while if we work separately. So we're gonna have to work in groups if we wanna get the job done quicker. We hope to be done by early afternoon. More horses will be coming in a few days."

Everyone looked at each other.

"What're you waiting for?! MOVE!"

The men immediately got to work.

"Ellis, would you mind cutting some boards?" asked a worker, his best friend, Keith.

"No problem, Keith." Ellis replied.

"_Well, let me have a ruler and a saw and a board and I'll cut it…"_

Ellis sawed pieces from boards that were too long.

"_I'll climb up the ladder with a hammer and nail and I'll nail it…"_

A worker climbed down from the stable roof to take a break, and Ellis climbed up to take his place hammering extensions to the roof.

"_Well, we worked so hard to build a little house together…"_

He and several other men carried large pieces of wood and set them down to build walls.

"_In the snow or the rain or the ice cold wind whenever…"_

As the morning progressed, he hammered nails in, took some breaks, got sent back into work, cracked jokes, told stories…

"_No matter…"_

More hammering.

"_What the weather…"_

He drank water. Soon, there was more hammering with the other workers. Then, they put together fences that would separate the horses from each other.

"_We're together." _

And from there, they worked, worked, and worked some more.

By early afternoon, thanks to the combined efforts of all the men working together, work on expanding the horses' stable was done.

"Nice work, gentlemen! Let's give ourselves a big round of applause for a job well-done!" said the ringleader of the workers.

The workers all applauded themselves for their hard work. They all shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.

"We did it, boys!"

"Can't wait to see the look on Tyler's face when he sees this!"

Ellis wandered around with a satisfied, happy smile. Then, he just so happened to look up at the window of the farmhouse. There, smiling back at him, was a young woman around his age. She was the ranch owner's daughter, Zoey, the woman he always longed for.

Zoey waved at the boy and sent him a wink, as if giving her approval of the work done. Ellis went red and rubbed his head while chuckling awkwardly.

"Ellis!"

Ellis was surprised when he felt a hearty slap on his shoulder. Keith was standing there, smiling.

"What're you waitin' for, man? Let's go celebrate!" he told his friend.

"Ayt. Ayt. Let's go!" Ellis responded.

Ellis waved to the girl in the window as he and his friend walked off with their co-workers.

* * *

Riding from a forest just below the Ambarino mountains, Arthur, Charles, Nick and Francis rode their way back to town.

"That went well." said Arthur.

"We got some rabbits, birds, not to mention a deer. Nice job, guys." said Charles.

"I actually don't hate hunting." Francis contributed to the conversation.

"Good for you, Petunia." Arthur responded to him with a smirk.

Francis rolled his eyes.

"Ha ha ha. Very funny, Morgan. Typical."

Arthur laughed.

"To be fair, yer still better than Micah. And more productive than Uncle." he assured his fellow outlaw.

"Oh, I'm touched." Francis responded.

Suddenly, Nick, who was leading the way, stopped and raised his hand to halt his companions.

"Stop."

The other three did as ordered.

"What is it? Something wrong?" asked Charles.

"Something's not right." said Nick, his voice lowered. He gestured to a nearby ranch.

"What about it? There ain't even anything there." said Francis with a snort.

"We don't know that!" Nick responded back.

Charles looked at Francis.

"He has a point, you know."

"Why don't we ride over there and…take a look? See what's bothering you." Arthur suggested to Nick.

Nick nodded.

"Exactly what I was gonna say. Come on."

The four men rode up to the ranch. Upon arriving, they noticed how strangely quiet it was. Usually, when ranches were empty, animals could still be heard in the surrounding wilderness.

But this time, it was different.

For there was only silence.

No birds chirping, no horses grunting or neighing, no sheep were heard making their distinctive noises, no pigs squealing…

Nothing.

The men got off their horses to investigate, and as they did, the horses ran off, surprising them.

"The hell?" muttered Arthur.

"We'll get them later. In the meantime, let's search this place." said Charles.

With their guns out, the men searched through the place. Nobody was around. However, Francis noted that in the farmhouse, there was still some fresh food on the dining room table. Not to mention that furniture was still around and the owners' possessions still remained. The horse stables were also empty, almost as if the horses all ran off.

"See anything, Charles?" asked Arthur.

"Nothing."

"WHOA SHIT!"

A yell caught the attention of both men, as well as Francis, who emerged from the house. Immediately, they ran to the outside of the barn, where Nick was standing frozen in his place.

"What's wrong, Nicky?" asked Arthur.

"Well…if you really wanna see it…" the pale con man responded.

Arthur, Charles, and Francis joined their companion in seeing what was inside the barn.

What they saw was a horrifying scene.

The bodies of the family who owned the ranch were all hanging upside down from the rafters, having completely been drained of their blood. Not only that, but the carcasses of the ranch's animals were also sprawled throughout the barn, covering the place in a red mess of organs and blood. In fact, several of the animals were also completely drained of their blood like their owners.

"Who the hell would do this?" Arthur wondered aloud.

"I…I…I don't know…" Charles responded in disbelief. "The corpses are fresh. Looks like they were killed only recently."

"Uh, guys? You might wanna check this out." said Francis, who had gone outside the barn.

After Arthur had finished sketching the scene of the crime in his journal, the other men headed to where Francis was standing.

"Take a look."

On the wall outside the barn were words written in blood.

"TO WHOEVER COMES ACROSS THIS, IT SHALL BE MADE KNOWN THAT THE DEAD WALK AMONG YOU. WE MAY WALK IN THE DAYLIGHT, BUT WE GROW STRONGER BY NIGHT. MY MASTER SHALL ARRIVE IN THIS COUNTRY SOON. HE HAS GREAT PLANS FOR THIS NATION. SO BE PREPARED, FOOLISH MORTALS. FOR DARKNESS WILL FALL ACROSS THE LAND."

The men didn't want to believe what they were reading.

"Is this some kind of joke?" asked Nick.

"I know this may sound crazy, but…I hate jokes that involve dead animals. And people." said Francis.

"Arthur, what do you think of this?" Charles asked.

Arthur, still in a daze, managed to respond.

"You know, ladies…I think it's a good thing we're headed to the saloon for drinks after this."

* * *

Throughout the day, Hosea tried his best to keep a calm mood, but the dream he had the night before still lingered in his mind.

Eventually, he sat down with Dutch to discuss details of said dream.

"In the dream…I remember it was dark. I was in a clearing. And it was foggy too. I saw Bessie. She had her back to me. Of course since she was my wife, my first instinct was to approach her. I did."

"And?" Dutch asked.

"I asked her if she was okay. Then, she turned around. What I saw horrified me. Her face was pale with streaks of blood. And her eyes…Her goddamn eyes…"

"What about them?"

"They were green. A glowing, bright shade of neon green. No pupils at all. Just blank glowing eyes. And then next thing I knew…she bit into my neck. And that was the last thing I remember."

There was silence between them, broken only by Dutch whistling.

"Well…that was…quite a dream, Hosea." he said.

"I burst awake after that. I walked around the camp for a while, trying to recollect myself. I did go back to sleep, and it was quite peaceful. But that dream was…odd. Ominous even."

Hosea leaned closely and looked into Dutch's eyes.

"I have a strange feeling something's coming, Dutch. And it ain't gonna be pretty."

* * *

It was just a normal day in New Orleans. Crowds of people were just walking through the streets minding their own business, others were simply standing around taking in the view, people were chatting with each other, jazz musicians were playing music, lawmen were chasing petty thieves. Yep. Everything you'd expect to see in New Orleans.

In a restaurant, Darnell Briggs was cooking up another one of his best foods. A special of his, what he called, "Momma's Finest Chicken Fry", basically chicken fried steak with secret herbs and spices covered in a special sauce and served with some veggies. That was his mother's recipe, hence the dish's name.

He picked up the plate holding said food and personally served it to the awaiting customer who had ordered it.

"Here you go, sir. One of my best dishes." Briggs said to the customer.

The customer was taken aback by the cook's politeness. He cut a piece of the chicken and ate it. His eyes widened as he nodded in approval.

"This is really good! What's it called?" he asked.

"It's called Momma's Finest Chicken Fry, sir! One of my specialties. It's called that for a reason. Cause it also happens to be my momma's recipe." the cook responded with a smile.

"I can see why it's a specialty. Your mother has great taste." said the customer.

Briggs nodded appreciatively.

"What's your name, son? I'd like to know." asked the customer.

"Darnell Briggs, mister. At your service." the cook replied. "But everybody calls me Coach. Because I coach a lot of people who are into sports."

"Well, Mister Briggs, compliments to you."

Coach chuckled.

"Thank you and you're welcome." he said with a bow.

That was his last dish served that day, since his shift was ending. He packed his things and left the restaurant, bidding farewell to his coworkers and patrons alike. As he walked home, he noticed the infamous Beaulieu Manor in the distance. There was a wagon parked outside, and two men were seen carrying things into the house.

"Somebody moving in there? After all these years?" Coach wondered aloud.

Beaulieu Manor was the site of a grisly murder-suicide that happened years ago, when a Frenchman named Alexandre Beaulieu murdered his entire family before blowing his head off with a shotgun. Since then, the house had remained empty, with many fearing it to be haunted. Screams and cries had been reported since not too long after the incident, as well as phantom figures moving throughout the house. The headless ghost of Alexandre Beaulieu himself was said to chase unwanted trespassers from the property.

Of course, these were just stories to exaggerate the history of the house, or so Coach thought.

Even then, he still got the creeps at the sight of the old house. In fact, for some reason unknown to him, he had an urge to be far from there immediately.

* * *

"Hold it steady!"

"I am, goddammit!"

The two workers carrying the large wooden box into the house struggled, but tried their best. Also in the house were heavy pieces of furniture, since a new owner was moving into the old place.

The men struggled for a bit more as they finally made their way into the parlor.

"Okay. Let's set this thing down."

"Alright. Careful now."

The two men slowly bent to the ground, and carefully set the large box down.

"There. That's the last of it." said one of them as he wiped sweat off his brow.

"Lord be praised." said the other.

The two men stood and drank for a while. They said nothing. Until one of them broke the silence.

"Where'd this box come from anyway?" he asked.

"Apparently, this thing came all the way from Europe. Germany I think." the other responded.

"You know the name of the person moving in here?"

"Yeah. Some guy named Lucius Van Drake. They say he's on an extended business trip. Apparently, he wants to see everything, furniture, all in order when he finally arrives here. It's kinda weird that he doesn't have no assistant or anything."

As time slowly passed by, the two men began to feel uneasy. They stared at the box on the floor. As they did so, they had the strangest feeling of being watched.

"Roger, can I ask you a question?" one of them asked the other.

"Go on, Mick. Shoot."

"Since when the hell did it become so cold in here?"

They realized that there was a strange chill that came upon them. It also should be noted that there were no windows open nearby.

"Mick, can we please leave?" Roger asked his friend.

"Yeah. Let's get out of here. This place gives me the creeps." Mick responded.

With that, the two men started walking. Then, they looked back at the box. It wasn't long before their growing fear got the best of them. And soon enough, they didn't stop running until they were out of the house entirely.

* * *

For a while, silence was prevalent around Beaulieu Manor. Seconds turned into minutes. Then minutes turned into hours. The sun eventually set, and the moon rose up as night fell over the city.

All was quiet, until the front doors to Beaulieu Manor opened.

Several figures walked into the house, led by who appeared to be a voodoo priest. They took some moments to survey the place, before continuing on.

Their journey through the house eventually brought them into the parlor where the box lay. They surrounded it and stared at it intently.

The voodoo priest looked to the others with him for approval. They nodded. The priest moved towards the foot of the box and raised his arms into the air.

"Arise, our master."

Then, the box's lid slowly began to creak open.

* * *

**Well, that's all for now. See you in the next chapter.**


	3. There Will Be Bad Blood

In his cabin, Bill set some food down on the table, before taking a seat on a chair.

"Thank you for coming, Hamish." he said to someone who was with him.

"Ah, Bill. No worries. Y'know I'm always here for ya." Hamish replied.

Hamish Sinclair was Bill's closest friend. He was also an elderly Civil War veteran who fought for the Union as well. The most notable trait of him was his missing leg, which he had lost due to being shot by a cannonball. However, he could still walk thanks to the support of a wooden leg. He was a wise man, and would pass on advice to whoever needed it. Every time he would undergo some crisis of any sort, Bill, a very conflicted man, would always turn to Hamish for help. Bill was often distrustful of others, and didn't have a really positive view of the world. But at the end of the day, there was always someone who he trusted, like Hamish.

"So, what did you wanna tell me about?" asked the one-legged veteran.

"A dream I had." Overbeck replied. "It was a strange one, it was."

"How so?"

"I remember, I was back in the field. It was when we were at Gettysburg. Everything was the same. The battle, the fog everywhere, the smell of gun smoke. But the Condederates…"

"What about them?" asked Hamish.

"They charged at us through the fog. But they didn't have any weapons. They were just…running at us like wild animals. Not soldiers." Bill continued.

"Any more details?"

"Of course, as Confederates, they were wearing the uniforms of the Confederate Army. But their skin was…pale. They had black veins running under their skin. And their teeth were as sharp as a dog's." Bill described the strange-looking Confederate soldiers.

Hamish just listened in silence.

"Last thing I saw was one of them charging at me. And then that's when I woke up." said Bill, wrapping up his story.

For a few moments, Hamish processed this.

"So what do you think they were? Vampires?" he asked Bill.

"I don't know. I feel like I'm losing my mind." the other veteran replied.

Hamish leaned closer to Bill.

"Bill…you can call me crazy all you want. But I tell you this…vampires exist."

Bill scoffed.

"I'm serious." Hamish said.

Bill stared at his friend. There wasn't any trace of a smile on Hamish's face. In fact, he looked as though he was dead serious.

And besides, Hamish was an honest man. When he did make up stories, there would always be a hint of a smile on his face, and he'd burst out laughing afterward.

But this time…that was not the case.

* * *

"This the place?"

"Looks like it."

A train that came from up north had arrived in the small town of Rhodes, Scarlett Meadows, Lemoyne.

Rochelle Samuels got off the train and took a moment to process her surroundings. She seemed impressed by the peaceful location. Small town where everyone knew each other and away from the noise of the big city. Not too half bad.

"Nice place." she said to herself.

Rochelle worked for a newspaper up in Ohio, and had gone down south to Lemoyne to write about the ancient feud between two families: The Grays and the Braithwaites. As she wasn't from Rhodes, she didn't really understand why the families were in such bad blood with each other. So, she wanted to find out more.

Louis Henderson got off the train not long after Rochelle did. On the other hand, he was a writer who wanted to take some inspiration for a new book he was working on. He had heard about the notorious Lemoyne Raiders, an outlaw gang who acted like they owned all of the state of Lemoyne.

Both Louis and Rochelle were childhood friends. They were both born to former slaves who were freed after the Civil War. Though they both lived in different states, Pennsylvania and Ohio, respectively, they still kept in touch with each other.

"I heard about these families, the Grays and the Braithwaites. They been fighting for I don't know how long. The Grays run this town, apparently." said Rochelle.

"I heard that the Braithwaites have a history of inbreeding." said Louis.

Rochelle gave a disgusted look.

"Ew."

As they walked through the town, things were rather calm. They waved at a couple people. No harm done.

"What'chu darkies want?"

The two Northerners turned and saw a man leaning against a post. Unfortunately, this man was no good. For he was a high-ranking member of the Lemoyne Raiders.

"Nothing, sir. We were just…checking the place out." said Louis.

The Raider scoffed.

"If I were you, you walk away from us now. Otherwise, you'll see what happens to you." he told the newcomers.

"Let's just go." Rochelle told Louis.

As they walked away, the Raider said to them.

"Welcome to Lemoyne."

Rochelle and Louis shrugged and kept walking.

"A first look at the Lemoyne Raiders, I see?" said Louis.

"Gangs are prevalent all around this region. And unfortunately, the government here is corrupt as hell, like the Grays, who run this town. Some even made dealings with criminal gangs." said Rochelle.

Louis sighed.

"You know, even though we've been here for only just a few minutes, I sure as hell am glad I don't live here."

* * *

Sadie Adler sat under a tree, playing with her knife. She had ridden along with John Marston, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, and young Lenny Summers to rob a wagon carrying moonshine. According to Dutch, an old associate of theirs named Herman Ravenwood was expecting some moonshine to be delivered to his ranch. Unfortunately, the moonshine was stolen by the O'Driscoll Boys, thus preventing the delivery's success. So now, there they were, on a mission to take out the O'Driscolls who were bringing the moonshine to their main headquarters.

"See anything, Javier?" John asked his companion.

"Nothing." said Javier, looking through his binoculars.

They continued scanning the area. Sean scoffed behind them.

"This is fucking boring, I tell ya. No fun. We're just lurking around here doing nothing." he said.

"Will you shut up?" John requested.

Javier suddenly put his hand up.

"Hold up. I see something."

Sadie and Lenny came over.

"Finally!" Sean exclaimed.

Javier zoomed in on what was in his sights. Sure enough, there in his sights was a wagon of moonshine being driven by some O'Driscolls.

"There they are." said John.

"So, what's the plan?" asked Lenny.

"Let's stay here. We get our rifles out, and from here, we snipe the bastards, pick 'em off one by one. Then, we ride down there and take the 'shine. Piece of cake." said John.

"Sounds like a plan." said Javier.

"Wait. Hold up a second." Sean interrupted.

"What?"

"Any idea where Mrs. Adler went?"

Sure enough, Sadie was nowhere nearby.

"The hell? Where'd that crazy lady go?" John wondered aloud.

"Uh…guys." Lenny said to the other men. "I think we found our answer."

In the distance, Sadie rode up to the O'Driscolls and began firing at them, and naturally, they answered back by doing the exact same thing.

"SHIT! We gotta go help her!" said Javier as he ran to his horse.

John sighed.

"My plan was gonna go great!" he complained.

Mounting his horse, he followed the other three men as they rode down the valley.

An O'Driscoll snuck up on Sadie as she took out several of his companions. Unfortunately for him, the widow sensed his presence and fired a bullet right into his face. At the same time, she threw a knife into the head of another O'Driscoll. Most of the other O'Driscolls lay dead, although some still remained. In the end however, they were unable to escape as John and company rode in and dispatched them all with headshots. And as a result, all O'Driscolls there were eliminated.

Sadie huffed in exhaustion.

"That was some fight, weren't it, boys?"

"Lady, don't you EVER do that again!" John chastised her.

"Good fighting, Mrs. Adler, but that was pretty reckless." Javier agreed with John.

Sadie pouted.

"Well, at least be grateful I helped." she said.

John just shook his head and got on the wagon.

"Wanna drive, Lenny?" he asked the youngest member of the group.

"Sure thing, John."

"Now, let's get this thing back to camp so we can bring it over to the Ravenwoods tomorrow."

And so, they continued on the road.

"Mrs. Adler, putting your recklessness aside…that was some good shooting back there." John said to the sole female member among them.

Sadie just shrugged.

"You know me. Those pricks killed my husband, ruined my life, fucked everything up."

"Been a thorn in our side for as long as I can remember. I'd be happy to one day take 'em all out." said John.

"Agree with you there. They give a bad name to us Irish." Sean contributed to the conversation. "Well…some of them at least."

"I pray to God we wipe them out soon. One less thing to worry about." said Javier.

Suddenly, a bullet whizzed by.

* * *

"Whoa! What was that?!" cried Lenny.

John looked to the right.

"Uh oh."

In the distance were people on horseback heading towards them. Sadie looked behind her and saw more coming up.

"More O'Driscolls?!" Javier blurted.

"No. There's too many of them to be O'Driscolls..." said John, his face slowly draining of color.

"Then, who are they?" asked Lenny.

"The Bad Blood Battalion. Byron Blackwood's people."

As soon as John said those words, a chill went down spines of the others. The Bad Blood Battalion was stated to be the largest and most dangerous outlaw gang in existence. They were bandits, extortionists, mercenaries; utterly vicious hunters. And they had one goal: to inspire fear all throughout the West. They also travelled in large groups, larger groups than any other gang, much like military special operations units. That was why they were easier to distinguish than other outlaw gunslinger groups, thanks to their unusually large numbers.

"Lenny, whatever you do, DO NOT stop driving! Go as fast as you can! You hear me?!" ordered John.

"Got it! Hya!"

The gang rode on as the Bad Bloods chased after them. Bullets whizzed by as Sadie and Javier fired back at the enemies.

"GO! GO! GO!" John ordered the kid.

John joined the others in firing at the pursuing Bad Bloods, managing to kill several.

"Moonshine belongs to us! Hand it over!" ordered a Bad Blood.

"You ain't getting shit!" Sadie yelled as she fired back.

Spooked by the firefight, the horses stopped running and began rearing in terror.

"Shit! Everyone off your horses! We're gonna have to make a stand!" said John.

The others immediately complied, and the spooked horses finally ran off.

The five Van der Linde gang members held against the oncoming Bad Bloods, who were heading right towards them. Javier jumped on one Bad Blood and stabbed him to death before taking care of two more. John threw a knife into the neck of an enemy before blowing another's head off with a sawed-off. Sean was faring surprisingly well, dodging close range enemy attacks and shooting several others. Sadie fired off in random directions, hitting several Bad Bloods due to their overwhelming numbers. She managed to stab several who charged at her. All was going well for her until she eventually got pinned to a rock by a large bear of a man. The Bad Blood laughed as Sadie struggled to get out of his grasp.

"You ain't goin' nowhere, missy."

"Let me go, you fuckin' walrus…"

"Can't do that." said the Bad Blood as he laughed in her face.

As the Bad Blood prepared to strangle her, a gunshot rang nearby and the large man's body suddenly went limp, falling to the side. Sadie looked up and saw that it was Lenny who had saved her.

"You okay?" he asked.

"M'fine." Sadie responded as the boy helped her up.

The five Van der Linde gang members gathered together as their heard more shouts coming from the distance.

"What's the plan?!" asked Javier.

"I don't know what the hell we're gonna do!" John responded.

All hope seemed lost until an expression of realization came across Lenny's face.

"Wait! I have an idea! We douse the area with 'shine! That way, the fire can stop those Bad Bloods in their tracks and we can continue on our way!" he suggested.

The other four looked at each other.

"This guy's a genius." said Sean.

"Okay. All of you, get some moonshine and douse the ground! We don't have much time!" John ordered.

Quickly, everyone took some moonshine and splashed some on the ground across the road, in order to create a barrier of fire. Working together, they had enough moonshine splashed on the ground in no time.

"Wanna do the honors, Sadie?" John asked the female outlaw.

"Nah. This was Lenny's idea. He should do it." Sadie responded.

"Lenny?"

Lenny nodded.

"Kaboom."

He fired into the moonshine-covered ground, setting it ablaze.

"Go!" ordered John.

He and Lenny boarded the wagon again. The horses that ran off were all called back and the others mounted them once more. Soon, they were back on their way.

More Bad Bloods then arrived in the area, only to be confronted with the fire barrier. The horses at the front reared in horror.

"We got a fire! Fall back! Fall back!" the leading Bad Blood ordered his comrades.

The Bad Bloods did so. It was a mission failure for them.

"You see anything?" John asked Sadie, who was riding at the back.

Sadie looked behind her to check if there were any more Bad Bloods on their tail. There were none.

"Nada. They're gone. We lost 'em."

The others sighed in relief.

"Good. Now, let's get back to camp."

From a distance, Byron Blackwood and his lieutenants watched as the Van der Linde gang members rode off with the moonshine. None of them looked happy.

"This ain't over." muttered Blackwood.

* * *

"Well, look who's finally back." said Dutch.

Arthur, Nick, Francis, and Charles rode into camp, still in a daze over the previous events.

"And I see you've brought some food! Mr. Pearson will be pleased."

All four men got off their horses and walked towards Dutch. Simon Pearson walked to the horses and was delighted by the sight he was witnessing.

"Fresh kills, I see. These'll be good to cook!" he exclaimed.

"Well, thank you for the compliment, Mr. Pearson." said Arthur.

He then joined the other three who had ridden with him. Unfortunately, an unpleasant face soon walked up to them.

"Hello, cowpokes. I assume the day went well?" resident shitbag Micah Bell asked mockingly.

The quartet ignored him, and moments later, he just walked away laughing.

"Give me one reason not to hit that guy," said Francis.

The four men walked up to Dutch, who chuckled.

"What went on? You boys look like you've seen a ghost." he said.

"Dutch…you're not gonna believe what we saw." said Arthur.

This caught Hosea's attention. He walked over.

"What did you boys see out there?" he asked.

The four men who had just come in were silent. But eventually, Nick decided to speak up.

"When we were coming back from hunting…we stopped by a ranch. Strangely enough, it was empty. And we didn't hear any animals there or nearby. We searched the whole place. And…"

He trailed off. Arthur decided to continue for him.

"When we checked the barn…we saw…hanging bodies and dead animals, completely drained of their blood. Outside the barn was a message."

Arthur opened up his journal and showed brand new illustrations to Dutch and Hosea, who were looking over the pages with interest. Illustrated on two pages was the scene of the crime. On another page was the strange message written outside the barn.

"The corpses looked fresh. Seemed like they were dead for a few hours." Charles added.

Dutch whistled.

"Well…that's…quite an encounter you boys had." he said.

"That's why we stopped by the saloon afterwards. To get our minds off what we saw." said Charles.

Dutch looked over at Francis. While he normally cracked jokes and snorted at words like what was just mentioned by his companions, he was unusually silent.

At the same moment, the five who went to get moonshine arrived at the camp.

"Dutch! We got the moonshine!" said John.

Dutch chuckled as he walked over to the wagon.

"Well, I'll be damned!"

"Mrs. Adler was the best fighter out of all of us. She took out most of the O'Driscolls." Javier commented.

"We ran into Blackwood's boys on the way here. Ended up getting caught in a firefight. We wouldn't have made it back here if young Lenny hadn't come up with the genius idea to use some 'shine to start a fire barrier." John added.

Chills ran down Dutch's spine as soon as "Blackwood's boys" was mentioned. The fact that even he was intimidated by Blackwood's gang said a lot about them.

"Either way, good job to all of you. Mr. Ravenwood will be very happy when he sees this!" Dutch said, smiling again.

He looked at Arthur.

"Arthur, would you kindly join these people tomorrow when they deliver this to the Ravenwoods?"

Arthur nodded.

"Gladly."

"Thank you."

John looked at Lenny.

"Nice work out there, kid."

He patted Lenny's shoulder as he went into camp.

"Hey."

Lenny looked to his left to see Sadie there.

"I'll need to repay you for saving my life back there." she told him.

She walked to a nearby table to have a drink. Lenny put his hands on his hips, proud of himself.

Hosea watched as Arthur, Francis, Nick and Charles went to turn in for the night. He thought for a moment about what he read in Arthur's journal. Then, he looked back at his dream the night before.

_"What the hell is going on?"_

* * *

Arthur sat contently as he watched a little boy run around chasing a butterfly. For him, it was a nice experience being a father, even if he didn't come around too often.

"Look at the pretty butterfly, daddy!" the boy exclaimed.

"Go get 'im, tiger!" Arthur encouraged the boy.

The boy's mother approached the outlaw and sat next to him, and rested her head on his shoulder.

"What're you thinking?" she asked Arthur.

"I'll be honest with you, Eliza. I wish I could come around more often. I wanna see our boy grow up. He needs a father in his life. My daddy was never really good to me. But with little Isaac….I need to show him the love my daddy never gave me." Arthur responded.

"You still can be a father, Arthur. Why don't you leave the gang?"

"I would, but…Dutch raised me. And so did Hosea."

"I know that. But our future depends on your decisions, Arthur. Think about me. Think about our son. You know I support you. But at the end of the day, I just want what's best for you."

"I guess you're right." said Arthur.

"So, will you leave this criminal life behind? For something better? For something that will make you truly happy?"

Arthur nodded with a smile.

"I will. I'll talk to Dutch tomorrow."

"Oh, Arthur."

They kissed. And so be it. A new beginning for them was all that mattered.

For them.

For their son.

Arthur smiled, but the smile faded away as soon as it appeared. And a thought went through his head.

Something ain't right.

"Come to think of it…I don't remember riding all the way here to see you." he said. "Is this...is this a dream?"

"What're you talking about?" Eliza asked, still smiling. "I'm right here."

"No. No. This ain't possible."

Arthur slowly began to put the puzzle together.

"I saw two graves outside this place when I last came here. One for an adult, one for a child. You and Isaac's graves. You're dead, the both of you. But how the hell..."

He looked closely at Eliza, but something was different about her. Her skin seemed paler than usual. In fact, she was as pale as a corpse. The sweetness in her eyes was now replaced by something far more sinister.

By thirst. A unquenchable thirst.

A thirst for…blood.

Arthur then looked at his young son, who had stopped playing. Isaac turned around to look at his father. And all Arthur could do was react in horror at what he saw.

The boy was nothing more than a decaying little skeleton. He cocked his head to the side as his empty eye sockets studied his father.

Trembling violently, Arthur looked at Eliza. She smiled, showing a row of sharp canine teeth.

She opened her mouth wide and sank her teeth into Arthur's jugular.

* * *

Arthur jolted awake in his cot, breathing heavily and sweating profusely.

And where was he?

Not on the steps of a small house. Not in the bright daylight. Not in a setting where it began so serene and ended so horrifyingly.

He was in Horseshoe Overlook. In the dead of night.

"Arthur? Arthur? Arthur?"

Arthur screamed.

* * *

**The Bad Blood Battalion is an original gang created by me. If you wanna borrow them for any Red Dead fics you may be writing, be my guest. Please don't hesitate to ask.**


	4. Reunion With The Ravenwoods

Arthur sat through the rest of the night on his cot, drinking some water, while being comforted by Miss Grimshaw and Abigail Roberts. The others were watching with interest. The women looked concerned. The men looked confused. Micah looked amused.

"What was the dream about, cowpoke? Naked fat ladies? Uncle's utterly traumatizing penis? Rainbow unicorns getting mutilated and turned into cupcakes?" Micah asked mockingly.

He expected the others to laugh, but was instead met with disgusted looks. Uncle turned red and rubbed his head in embarrassment.

"Micah. Please. That isn't helping at all." Hosea told him sternly.

Hosea kneeled down in front of Arthur.

"Had a bad nightmare, Arthur?" he asked his surrogate son.

Arthur nodded.

"I was with…Eliza…and Isaac. Everything was beautiful. Then suddenly…it all became a goddamned nightmare…"

Dutch leaned over, putting a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"What happened next, son?"

"My little boy…he…was nothing more than a skeleton. Eliza…her skin turned white and she had…the fangs of a goddamn dog…"

Hosea and Dutch looked at each other.

"Oooooooooohhh."

"Micah, shut the fuck up."

"What happened next, Arthur?" Dutch asked.

"She bit into me, Dutch. She bit into my neck and then I woke up." Arthur replied.

"Ouch. A love bite taken to the next level."

"MICAH, I SWEAR TO GOD." Abigail warned Micah once more.

Arthur shrugged.

"And that was it."

The rest started at him in sympathy.

"Arthur, do you think you still gonna be able to make the trip to the Ravenwood ranch in the morning? Because, if you can't…I don't see a need for you to. That dream must've affected you real bad." Dutch asked with concern.

Arthur nodded.

"I'll be alright, Dutch. Maybe looking into the blue eyes of the Ravenwoods will help calm me down a bit more. They're always a sight for sore eyes."

"I'll come with you. It's been quite awhile since we've seen 'em. I wanna be there to see the looks on their faces when they see the moonshine gathered." said Hosea.

Dutch nodded.

"Very well. Arthur, you can stay awake as long as you want. Everyone else...get back to sleep if y'all still want to."

The others retreated to their tents. Charles, Nick and Francis stood together, looking at Arthur with concern.

"First, we see a bunch of animals mutilated and a bunch of people completely drained of their blood. Then, Arthur has a dream where Eliza bites into his neck. You think there's a connection?" Charles suggested.

Nick and Francis looked at him.

"What do you mean?" Nick asked.

"Judging by how Arthur described Eliza having sharp teeth and how we discovered that gruesome scene several hours ago…you don't think…all this has to do with something weird, right?"

Nick and Francis looked at each other.

"Like vampires, I guess?" suggested Nick.

"I hate goddamn vampires." said Francis.

"We know. You've mentioned that a million times in your life." Nick replied to the taller outlaw.

"Well either way…I got a bad feeling." said Charles.

He scoffed.

"Vampires? This is all too good to be true, right?"

Despite the rather bravado way he stated his words, deep down, his worry was about to enter an all-time high.

* * *

Dawn arrived.

Ellis stretched and yawned as he woke up from the previous night's slumber. He noticed that his other coworkers were still asleep. So, with a smile, he decided to pay a little visit to the Tyler house and cook up some breakfast for Zoey.

Once he left the workers' quarters, he stealthily crept up to the farmhouse. Careful not to alert anyone, he slowly opened the back door and made his way into the kitchen. He gathered some eggs and some meat, and fired off the pan. He toasted some bread and sang a happy tune as he did so.

He slowly crept up the stairs, careful not to disturb anyone possibly still sleeping. He made his way to Zoey's room and quietly opened the door. Just in time, he saw that the young woman was awakening. He went over to her carrying the plate of food.

"Mornin' there, sweet." Ellis greeted the girl.

Zoey's eyes widened.

"Ellis! What're you doing in here?" she asked.

"Made you some breakfast." the young farmhand replied.

"Well…thank you kindly." Zoey replied, taking the food and setting it aside for a while. Then, she looked into the boy's eyes.

"You gotta get out of here before daddy sees you!" Zoey warned.

"I would, but…"

The sound of someone clearing their throat was heard. The young couple looked at the figure at the doorway. Wade Tyler. This was not good.

"What're you doing in my daughter's room, boy?" he asked.

Zoey opened her mouth to say something to cover for Ellis, but Ellis decided to come clean.

"I made her breakfast…sir. Thought it'd be a great idea to do so. After all…I do love bringing smiles to people's faces." he told his boss.

Tyler only nodded as he made his way to Ellis. Then, he slapped the boy.

"Stay away from my daughter. Now get outta here and get some work done."

Ellis could only nod sadly as he placed a hand on his cheek.

"Yes, sir."

He left the room, briefly glancing back at Zoey, who mouthed another "thank you" for the breakfast.

Ellis gave a small smile back, before heading downstairs.

* * *

Arthur and Hosea led the way to the Ravenwood family's ranch, driving the wagon carrying the moonshine. Sadie, Lenny, John and Bill Williamson were riding alongside them on their horses, having volunteered to come along for the trip.

"Feeling better now, Arthur?" Hosea asked the younger outlaw.

"Yep. Don't worry about me." Arthur responded.

Hosea took out a flask and drank from it. Once he had his swig, he offered some to Arthur, who accepted.

"Been a…little strange these past 24-36 hours, huh?" Hosea asked.

"Eeyup." Arthur agreed. "What does Dutch think about all this?"

Hosea shrugged.

"I'm not sure what to think. But I'm guessing he's quite unnerved."

"Personally, I think a little visit to some friends we ain't seen in a few years would be great for us to take our mind off things." said Arthur.

"Right back at you, son. Right back at you."

* * *

Herman Ravenwood was a man with the blood of Vikings. He was a born warrior. And as such, was not the type of person you'd expect to see back down easily. He had that look. A stern face with a thick, bushy mustache and cold steel blue eyes that made those staring into them feel as though they were staring into the eyes of death. At six foot three, the mere sight of him was enough to make even the bravest man shiver.

Hell, back in the war, he was one of the fiercest warriors the Union had to offer. Got himself a record of most Confederates killed in a day. 265 Confederates dead within a six-hour time frame.

But behind that stern, aggressive demeanor was a gentle heart. Ravenwood was a man who treated his workers like family. He even gladly paid them a great deal of money to support them, especially when they really needed said money. He was an educated, open-minded person, a critical thinker. And he was often regarded as the backbone of every council he was part of, the one everyone looked to for guidance.

Though the Ravenwoods were rich, they weren't into those ridiculous high-class socialite parties and whatnot, preferring to live rather simply like a normal family would, despite living in a large house in an equally large ranch. Like Jesus Christ, they preferred the company of those in a place in society lower than them, and they were regarded as being the nicest folks in the region. The family had moved down from up north, Minnesota to be specific, to pursue more opportunities, eventually choosing Scarlett Meadows in Lemoyne as their new home. They settled into a large ranch located just beside the Gulf of Mexico, since Skylar, the family's only daughter, had a love for the sea.

All was normal as the Ravenwood patriarch sat at the table, drinking his morning coffee and reading through a newspaper regarding the recent events that transpired in Blackwater. For someone so tough and gruff, he sure did have a thing for reading.

"Mr. Ravenwood!" called out the familiar voice of one Arthur Morgan.

"Herman! We're here!" called another familiar voice.

Herman looked up, puzzled.

"No. Arthur? Hosea? I must be hearin' things."

His eldest son, Terrence, snapped his fingers to get his father's attention.

"Dad, come on! We got visitors!"

With a grunt, the elder Ravenwood stood up from the table and walked to the door, followed by his son. He soon opened it and walked out to see two familiar faces he hadn't seen in few years.

"Well, I'll be damned! If it ain't Arthur Morgan and Hosea Matthews! I weren't dreaming after all!" Ravenwood said with a chuckle.

He and Arthur walked towards each other and shook hands, with Hosea coming up to them and shaking hands with Herman as well.

"Good to see you again, fellers." said Herman.

"Likewise, Herman. It's been such a long time." said Hosea.

"You two remember Terry. Don't you?" said the ranch owner, gesturing to his son, who greeted Arthur and Hosea with a wave.

"Hey, kid." Arthur greeted the young man.

"Arthur. Hosea. Been quite a while."

Arthur and Hosea both shook hands with the eldest Ravenwood child.

"Look at you. All grown up! You're…even taller now! Just an inch above me." Arthur joked.

Both Herman and Terry laughed.

"It's a thing with us Ravenwoods. We're all tall. Genetics, y'know?" said Herman.

"How're the other two? Skylar and Zachary?" asked Hosea, regarding the two younger Ravenwood children.

"Doing great. Skylar recently reached adulthood. A couple days ago. She's 18 now. Young Zachary, on the other hand…still quite as mischievous as ever. He's learning to shoot now." Herman replied.

He looked to Arthur.

"Skylar's teaching her little brother everything you taught her, Arthur."

Arthur chuckled in appreciation.

"I always knew I was still her favorite uncle."

"No doubt in that." Herman said in agreement.

"Well, that's wonderful to hear. Dutch sends his regards." said Hosea with a smile.

Herman nodded.

"Tell him I say thank you."

"By the way." said Hosea. "We haven't introduced you to some of our gang. You remember John, of course, who you got in a drunken fight with at a saloon a couple years ago back in '93."

John waved at both father and son.

"Howdy, you two."

"Then, there's Bill. Not exactly smart, but he's loyal."

Williamson tipped his hat.

"Pleasure to meet you both."

"This recent addition to the family is Sadie. Quite one of our best. If it weren't for her being so effective against Colm's boys, we'd be dead by now."

"Hyello."

"And this kind boy is Lenny."

Lenny smiled in greeting at Herman and Terry.

"Hey there."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you all." said Herman.

Arthur and Hosea took a moment to survey the ranch.

"Quite the place you got here, Herman." Hosea noted. "Right by the sea too."

"You know Skylar. She loves the sea." Herman remarked.

"That she does. Hell, even her eyes match with it." Hosea joked.

"Hey, I'mma go around and check the place out for a while if you don't mind." said Lenny.

"Please! Go ahead! Take your time. Y'all are welcome here." said Herman.

Lenny gave an appreciative nod and walked off to do his own activity. As did Williamson and John, who went to check out the horses in the stables. Sadie, on another note, just wanted to take a breather.

"Don't fuck a horse, Bill." John joked to Williamson.

"Fuck off, Marston."

Hosea gestured to Arthur.

"Gonna have a look around or what?"

Arthur raised his hand in response.

"Yup. Ain't gonna miss it."

* * *

Lenny took a moment to check out his surroundings. He watched several workers leading some horses, household helpers washing some clothes, a few other people chatting and laughing. He noted the atmosphere the place had. It was serene, calm, peaceful. And even better, no people arguing in sight.

"_I'll be damned if this place ain't beautiful."_ Lenny thought to himself.

As he was checking the place out, something rather interesting caught his eye. He then took a look at the gazebo very near to the house.

And sure enough, there she was.

It was a girl. Around his age.

Lenny stood glued to the sight of her. Her long blonde hair flowed in the wind as she sketched on a journal. Judging by her face, she seemed to be enjoying what she was presently doing. Lenny couldn't take his eyes off her. He just stood there, unmoving, having been rendered completely speechless.

"_Is it just me? Or is that the prettiest girl I've ever seen?"_

Then, before he knew what was happening, the girl suddenly looked up from her journal and locked eyes with him. Blushing in embarrassment, Lenny so desperately wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He felt it would be rude to do so. He also didn't want the girl to think he was some sort of creep. Plus...her eyes. Boy, were they hypnotizing. At this point, the young man was already starting to sweat nervously.

"_Uh, what do I do?"_

Instead, the young woman smiled at him. Her bright, piercing ocean blue eyes appeared to sparkle as she did so.

Lenny didn't know how to react. But in the end, he just smiled back.

Just only fifteen minutes into being at the ranch and it didn't take long for him to become instantly attracted to the lady.

And now, scenarios were running through his head. They were running towards each other. In a New Orleans street. Wait, no. A beach. Nope. Ah. Yes. A field of flowers. That was the perfect setting, weren't it?

"Lenny!"

He was suddenly snapped back to reality as the gruff voice of Arthur Morgan entered his ears.

"What're you doing, kid?"

Lenny blushed as he rubbed the back of his head.

"I…uhhhh…"

Arthur then looked over at the gazebo and saw a household helper speaking to the young woman, who then stood up and briefly glanced at Lenny before turning her full attention back to the helper.

Arthur laughed as he looked back at the young man.

"Ahhhhhh. I see what's going on. Young Skylar's caught your eye, huh?"

"_So that's her name…"_ Lenny thought.

"Hey. Can't blame you. The mere sight of her is enough to make any boy turn into a goddamn mess."

"I can see why…" Lenny responded.

"Hey, Arthur! Long time no see!" said Skylar, waving at Arthur as she headed to the house. Arthur smiled and waved back at her.

"Good to see you again, kid! All grown up, I see!" he responded.

"Good to see you too! I'll catch up with you soon! Maybe later, alright?" the young woman replied.

"Alright! Belated happy birthday! Hope y'all had a good one!" Arthur greeted her.

"Thank you, Arthur!"

She sent Arthur a wink as she disappeared into the house.

"Sweet kid. Gotta love her." said Arthur.

He turned to Lenny, who was still dazed.

"You alright, kid?" Arthur asked him, patting him on the back.

"I'm all good, Arthur." Lenny replied. "I think I'll go sit on that rock for a while and take in the view."

Arthur nodded.

"We might take a while, so...go ahead and do what you want."

"Alright, Arthur."

"Eh, you're a good kid."

Lenny walked over to a nearby rock and sat down.

"One more thing, Lenny." said Arthur. "I should tell you. Skylar is too easy to get attached to. WAY too easy to get attached to."

"No worries, Arthur. I think I got it." the boy replied.

Arthur left Lenny where he was and headed over to another area of the ranch. Leaning on a tree was Sadie, who was taking in the view as well.

"Hey." Arthur greeted her.

"Hey."

Arthur took his place next to her and leaned on the tree as well. He took out a cigar and lit it. He offered one to the woman beside him, who politely declined.

"So, what're you thinking?" he asked her.

"About?"

"I dunno. This place? What Dutch is planning next?"

"Not much, honestly. Although I AM impressed with this place." Sadie replied.

"It sure is something, ain't it?"

"Right back at ya."

For a few moments, there was silence.

"So what were you talkin' about with Lenny?" asked Sadie.

Arthur gave an amused smirk.

"What's so funny?" a confused Sadie asked once more.

Arthur chuckled.

"Nothing! Nothing. It's just…..he saw young Skylar, Herman's little girl. A real sweetheart. Well, she ain't exactly little no more, cause she's quite tall now. And older too. Anyway, Lenny…he saw her, and…let's just say it was love at first sight."

Sadie let out a chuckle.

"I see. I see."

"Also, I am sincerely hoping that Williamson isn't fucking a horse in the stables right now." Sadie blurted out randomly.

Arthur looked at her in disgust.

"Lady, just what in the hell is your damn problem?"

Sadie just laughed.

"I don't understand Marston's jokes neither."

* * *

Skylar was relaxing in the bath as the helper massaged her shoulders. She opened her eyes and looked outside the window beside her. In her sights, there was Lenny, who was staring into the distance, admiring the view. Mere moments later, a worker walking nearby accidentally dropped a couple of things. Lenny got up to help him gather everything that fell. After the problem was settled, the two men exchanged a few pleasantries before the worker headed on his way. Lenny sat back down on the rock and went back to his previous activity of just taking in the view. Skylar eyed him over with interest. To her, he was quite a handsome fellow.

"Rosa, could you pass my journal, please? With the pen too?" she asked the helper.

Rosa did as asked.

"Here you go, mija."

"Thank you." Skylar said with a smile.

Opening her journal, Skylar began sketching the sight she was staring at. She bit her lip as she doodled the young man with great accuracy and detail, making sure to not make even one mistake as she did so. Not too long later, she smiled to herself, admiring her good work.

"_Saw this boy today. Rode into the ranch with Arthur, Hosea, and a couple others to deliver the moonshine daddy wanted. Caught him staring at me while I was sketching under the gazebo. I'm a nice girl, so I smiled back at him. I thought he was shy and nervous at first, but judging from when I saw him help Tucker when he dropped his load, he seems real nice."_ the text under the sketch of Lenny read.

"Sketching boys, I see?" Rosa amusingly asked.

Skylar let out a giggle.

"Rosa, as a girl, I have tendencies." she replied to her helper.

"Cannot blame you there, hermana. When I was your age, if a handsome boy were to dance in front of me, I requested that he do so with his shirt off!" Rosa replied.

Both women burst out laughing like high school teenagers.

"Ah. Dating. Young love. What a thing." Rosa remarked.

"Mmhmm…"

Skylar handed her journal to Rosa, who put it back on the nightstand it was previously on, and handed her a book to read.

"Thank you." Skylar once again said to Rosa appreciatively.

"A novel by Jose Rizal? Interesting man he was. Such a shame he suffered the fate he suffered. He did not deserve any of that." said Rosa, talking about the book's author.

"No doubt in that. And I think this book of his, _Noli Me Tangere, _is one of the finest things I've ever read."

As she flipped through the pages of the novel, Skylar once again glanced outside the window at Lenny for a few moments. She had never had a boyfriend before, believe it or not. That was rather surprising since she was considered the most popular girl in Scarlett Meadows and was fancied by every boy and young man she encountered. Despite their desperate attempts to win her over by use of a ridiculous amount of jewelry, money, carriage rides, gold, and by demonstrating their manliness in bizarre ways, the young woman was amused, but not impressed. In fact, she just ended up fearing for the lives of those continuously risking their lives just to impress her, even if they constantly failed in the process. All she wanted was someone who would just act normal and appreciate themselves for who they were without even trying.

But the sight of the kindness of a boy like Lenny Summers, who, despite his outlaw status, was willing to help anyone regardless of who they were and who didn't go through ridiculous lengths to impress people and instead chose to be casual and remain himself, was more than enough to bring a smile to her face.

* * *

Japanese-American outlaw Kenji Shinoda, or David as he was called for some whatever bizarre reason, stood in silence as he observed other Bad Bloods doing their own activities. Though he didn't say a word, he wasn't too happy about the failed mission to get the moonshine, for he knew that the Bad Bloods very rarely lost a fight.

Besides, he wasn't the type of man to back down from a fight. He loved to hit at everything with brute force. Hell, he killed at least three people in sparring matches with just his mere fists.

With a sigh, he turned around and took a look at the unclothed form of a young woman lying asleep in his bed, before turning his attention to the door. He walked towards it, opened it and went through it. He headed downstairs to see ol' Byron Blackwood pacing around in what they called "The War Room."

"What're you thinking about?" the Bad Blood operative asked his leader.

"We were so close to getting that damn moonshine. And I can't even remember the last time we lost a fight!" said Blackwood.

"I get it. Losing is frustrating, but let's use it as motivation instead of letting it keep us down forever." David replied.

Byron looked down at the table in deep thought, before nodding in agreement.

"You're right, my boy. I raised you well."

David then spoke up further.

"The ones who got away with the moonshine. I saw a couple of familiar faces."

Blackwood looked up at him.

"Explain."

"John Marston, Sean MacGuire. They're Van der Linde's people. We saw 'em in Blackwater. When their boat heist turned into a fucking disaster." David said as he confirmed the identities of two of the enemy gang.

Blackwood closely looked into his lieutenant's eyes.

"David, gather some men. As many as you want. Find where Van der Linde and his people are camped. They'll see what happens to them."

Ever the loyal samurai, David nodded in approval.

"Got it, boss. We won't let you down."

Putting on a leather trench coat, his hat, and a skull-face bandana and grabbing his trusty katana, David walked out into the camp to gather other Bad Bloods to accompany him to track down the Van der Linde gang's camp.

"Listen up! It has come to my attention that Dutch van der Linde's people were the ones who we were fighting against for the moonshine. The dear leader has ordered me to find the camp. And I'm gonna need people with me. Any volunteers?!" he said.

Around ninety-five Bad Bloods raised their hands. David nodded.

"Fair enough. Mount your horses and let's ride!"

Minutes later, the large group of Bad Bloods rode from the base camp, out for their next hunt.

"Think there'll be some blood?" asked Miguel "Mike" Rodriguez, David's older, yet productive, best friend.

"We shall see, _amigo_. We shall see." replied his brutish friend, who was leading the way.

A young man was walking on the side of the road, taking in the afternoon breeze. All was peaceful until he heard the sound of rapidly moving horse hooves coming from behind him. He turned around to see the horde of Bad Bloods riding towards him. The one leading them unsheathed his katana, prepared to kill the prey in his sights. Terrified, the young man started running as fast as he could. Unfortunately, he was unable to escape as the leader's horse caught up to him. The katana cut through his neck, severing his head from his body.

Shinoda said nothing as he threw the blood off his sword, and continued leading his men back into the state of New Hanover.

* * *

"I assume my other disciples have already stationed themselves all throughout the country?"

"Yes, my master." the voodoo priest responded.

The master was silent for a moment, before continuing speaking.

"I must say. For a human, you are very valuable member of my coven. You have shown me nothing but undying loyalty. And for that, I thank you, Vernand."

The voodoo priest bowed.

"Anything for you, master. Always."

"How is the key to the Red Death coming along, if I may ask?"

"Just about ready. Soon, you may be able to drink the potion, so you may finally use the necromancy powers it bestows upon you in order to bring the dead back. As the dead slowly begin to reawaken, the pestilence will spread, causing people unfortunate enough to catch it to get sick, before they die and eventually come back…a shell of who they once were." Vernand responded.

"Excellent. Adding this country's citizens to my legion of fellow vampires is already in motion. Phase one is complete. Phase two: The Red Death. We will spread a pestilence across the country and reanimate the dead into mindless flesh eaters. And then phase three: The Full Moon Curse. Our wolves will scratch any man they see, and turn them into feral beasts no different than they are who transform as night falls. And once everything is set in motion, it will all go perfectly. When the time comes, we will go up north to this nation's capital, where we will take the great White House, and completely turn this country into a nation of the dead."

Lucius Van Drake stared out into the night.

"Soon…darkness will fall across the land. And America will be mine."

* * *

**Yes, people. Zombies, vampires and werewolves.**

**And at long last, be prepared to see the first zombie next chapter.**

**And for those of you who are wondering. Yes. Jose Rizal is a real person, and Noli Me Tangere is an actual book.**


	5. Warning Signs

Bill and Hamish rode through the countryside. A few days had passed since the strange dream Bill had. All was relatively normal, except for numerous flocks of birds flying through the sky. That was a little strange. It was spring. And a flock that large of an amount only flew during the winter season. But the two old men paid no mind to it, instead opting to continue their morning ride.

"It's relieving to know you're feeling better." Hamish said to his friend.

"Well, I had worse nightmares." Bill replied.

"Honestly, I haven't really gone out through the countryside in a while. It's great to be doing this again." said Hamish.

Bill nodded in agreement.

"You know what? You're right. It is good to get out once in a while. It helps clear the mind."

Even though he was feeling a bit better, Bill still couldn't get the thought of those strange Confederate soldiers out of his head. He couldn't forget their pale skin, their carnivorous teeth, their eyes filled with relentless adrenaline…

On the side of the road was a hooded old man holding a long stick in one hand, and a can in the other hand. He looked like a hermit or a homeless person. Both his hair and beard were unkempt, his face was dirty, and judging by his white eyes, he appeared to be blind.

"Learn your fortune!"

Hamish and Bill noticed the man. So, they stopped their horses.

"Learn your fortune! Old Blind Man Cassidy is not insane! Learn your fate."

Bill and Hamish stared at the man in disbelief.

"You wanna?" Hamish asked Bill.

"Eh. Why not?" Bill replied with a shrug.

Taking out a few coins, Bill got off his horse and slowly walked towards the disheveled man.

"Help a blind man." said the blind man, holding out the can.

Bill dropped some coins into the can the blind man was holding.

"Here you go."

"Dark times are coming. I must warn you. Very dark times indeed. When there is no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth. And it is up to you and a group of remarkable people to wash away the darkness with light." said the blind man.

"Well…I guess…I can take your word for it." Bill replied.

"Your journey begins down south. That is where you will meet those people. The state of New Hanover is the place you must head to first. The first allies you will make are located there at a spot overlooking the humbling river. Now move along. This old blind man has nothing else for you."

Bill and Hamish both looked at each other.

"Do you think we should?" Hamish asked.

"What this man is saying…it don't make a lot of sense. But…just for the hell of it, let's head there." Bill replied.

"Are you sure?" asked Hamish.

"What choice do we have? Even if this man is lying, we gotta go and see if what he says is true."

"Good point." Hamish agreed.

"Now let's go." said Bill as he put his hat back on.

He mounted his horse and rode off with Hamish down south into the New Hanover wilderness.

* * *

Lunch was well as the Van der Linde gang dined with the Ravenwood family over lunch. Everyone was chatting and laughing. The mood was pretty light.

"That Micah Bell…keep him as far away from us as possible, please. I don't like him." requested Felicia Ravenwood, the matriarch of the family.

"Gonna make sure of it, ma'am." Arthur responded.

"Well Herman, I gotta say. It is GREAT to be doing this again." said Dutch to the man seated at the head of the table.

"Likewise. It's been such a long time, Dutch. It's been…five, seven years since I last saw you folks?" Herman said.

"Nice to see your children have grown. Taught them well, I see." said Dutch.

"Indeed."

"I'm told it was your birthday a few days ago? Your 18th?" Dutch asked Skylar.

"Yeppers."

"Well, belated happy birthday, young lady! Welcome to adulthood." said Dutch.

"Happy belated!" Hosea added.

The others greeted the girl as well.

"Thanks, you guys!"

They continued eating.

"I heard about what went down in Blackwater." said Herman. "The boys and I stopped there the other day. Stay out of there, Dutch. Your face is on posters all over town."

"That is exactly what we're doing." Dutch responded.

"Hosea, I'm so sorry to hear about Bessie." Felicia said to Dutch's adviser.

"Thank you kindly." said Hosea. "I remember I was drunk for a year after that."

"If I may ask, what goes on around here in Lemoyne?" asked Dutch.

"This place, Archer's Grove, is near Rhodes. Rhodes is a small town. Everyone there knows each other. But that town has a bunch of problems, despite the relative peace." Herman responded.

"How so?" asked Arthur, curious.

"These two families, the Grays and the Braithwaites. They're in a long-running blood feud with each other." Herman continued. "It's been going on for I dunno how many years. The Grays run Rhodes. And Sheriff Gray himself ain't exactly got the cleanest record. Skylar's got a lot of friends, and she knows all the gossip in town, so she's basically where we get our information from. Her two closest friends are this boy, Beau, and a girl a little older than her, Penelope. They're star-crossed lovers. Unfortunately, this is a Romeo and Juliet situation. Beau's a Gray. Penelope a Braithwaite. The Grays live in Caliga Hall, in Bayou Nwa, close to Saint Denis, which is basically a complete knockoff of New Orleans. The Braithwaites in a manor not too far from here, also here in Scarlett Meadows. Beau and Penelope…there're times when they come over here and stay with us for a while whenever their families get rough. Those poor kids. A forbidden love, if I might say."

"Jesus…" muttered Abigail.

"Even though their families are fighting, least this Beau won't go leaving the Penelope girl when he finds out she's pregnant with his child." Arthur joked, smirking at John.

"Shut up, Arthur."

Felicia laughed a little.

"Still cracking jokes, Arthur?" she asked.

"When he was growing up? Oh boy. Me, him and Dutch? We were a curious couple and their unruly son." said Hosea.

"As the mother of three kids, I know EXACTLY what you're talking about." Felicia responded.

"Anyway, this is all very interesting. These Grays and Braithwaites you've been telling us about." said Dutch. "They seem like an interesting bunch to play around with."

"If you're looking to move here to Lemoyne and play both sides, I don't see why not! Robbing them could finally get you out of this country." said Herman.

"Herman Ravenwood, I thought you were leaving criminal life behind? Cause you're a changed man? And because you're focusing on raising a family?" said an unimpressed Felicia.

"Just trying to be supportive to old friends, honey." the Ravenwood patriarch responded.

"God, you're terrible…"

Everyone laughed.

"However, there's something I should warn you about. This neo-Confederate militia, the Lemoyne Raiders. They're very active in this whole state. Had a few bad run-ins with them a couple times. Watch out for 'em. They're very dangerous and can organize effective ambushes. So, keep a look out. However, they still aren't as dangerous as the Bad Bloods." Herman warned.

"Will do." said Arthur.

"So what's your family history anyway?" asked Williamson. "I'm just curious. That's all."

"Yeah. You folks seem like an interesting bunch." said Javier.

Herman spoke.

"Alright. See, we weren't always "Ravenwoods." Our family name was originally Romundstad. It was later legally changed to Ravenwood. Back in the day, our ancestors formed one of the most powerful clans in Norway. Sure. As Vikings, they were barbarians, thieves even. But they were honorable. Yes. They killed. But only when they had to. Sometime later, they came to America, settling in Minnesota. They all heard about the glories of the frontier, the gold. That's why they came here. Lifelong outlaws they were. They swore to fight every battle no matter where they went until Ragnarök came. And they came with a prophecy."

Everyone leaned in closer to listen.

"That if something were to happen, if darkness were to fall and Midgard were to descend into chaos, they would be brought back to life with an ancient artifact in order to combat that evil."

"What kind of artifact?" asked Hosea.

"An ancient Norse artifact called the Draugr Stone. Whoever uses it on the dead will return them to life. And they will help the living combat the forces of evil. Even if said forces of evil are composed of the dead as well. All in order to ensure the better future of Midgard."

Everyone was rendered silent by this. But in a good way, since they found the tale intriguing.

"Midgard is Earth, right?" asked Jack.

"Correct." Herman replied to the little boy. "That's what Norse mythology calls it."

"Where do you think is this artifact located? If you don't mind my asking." asked Dutch.

Herman looked down, silent for a moment.

"That I don't know." he replied. "The ancestors' tomb is located in West Texas, in the more mountainous and foresty area, where many of them fought their last battles. Some members of our family say that that is where the artifact is. But I'm not so sure. It's well-hidden. I would've found out with if my grandfather hadn't fallen to smallpox."

* * *

Lenny looked up from his food and looked over at Skylar, who was sitting at the main table between Zachary and little Jack Marston, talking to Abigail. She caught sight of Lenny staring and beamed at him, leading to the young man blushing. He turned back to his food, only to instead look up to Tilly Jackson and Mary-Beth Gaskill smiling at him.

"What?" Lenny asked.

"Don't play pretend now, Lenny. We saw you staring at her." said Mary-Beth with a giggle.

"A real cutie, ain't she?" added Tilly with a wink.

Nick nudged Lenny.

"Forget it, kid. That girl is way out of your league." he told him.

Lenny rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Ever been in love before, Lenny?" asked Sadie.

Lenny was quiet for a moment.

"Yeah."

"Jenny. You liked Jenny, right?" asked Tilly for confirmation.

Lenny nodded.

"Shame. I still miss her."

"Who?" asked a curious Sadie.

"Jenny Kirk." Tilly clarified. "She was with us before we found you. She…died because of what happened in Blackwater."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." said Sadie.

"Will you STOP it?"

Everyone looked over to an annoyed Javier. There appeared to be some food on his shoulder. Nearby behind him, sitting alone at his own table, was Micah, holding up his spoon. Apparently, he had been flinging food with it at Javier, Charles, and Bill, much to their annoyance.

"Enough of these childish games, Micah." said an equally annoyed John.

Micah just chuckled.

"So sorry. Just couldn't handle myself. Just looking for people to have some fun with. This lunch is more boring than I expected."

He went back to eating his food.

"I'm so sorry about Micah. He's…unpredictable." said Dutch.

"Keep him under control. There's something about him I don't like." said Herman.

"That's why we're keeping a close eye on him." said Hosea. "Right, Arthur?"

"Right back at you, Hosea."

"Hey, Snow Queen!" Micah shouted at Skylar. "You got Viking blood, don't you? Well, why don't you show me some of them "moves" of yours? Preferably someplace quieter and more secure. Just the two of us. Me and you, y'know?"

With a shit-eating smirk on his face, he winked suggestively.

Skylar immediately turned red in embarrassment. Zachary put his hand on her shoulder. Herman, Felicia, Terry, Hosea and Arthur shot him vicious looks of pure hatred. Everyone else stared at Micah in shocked and stunned silence.

"I...I don't know how to even begin..." said a shocked Nick.

"Oh my God! You DIDN'T just say that!" Abigail scolded.

"Son, you got a lot of nerve saying that in front of me!" said Herman, standing up.

"Oh, sit down and calm yourself, Mr. Hinga Dinga Durgen." said Micah. "You ain't the boss of me. And I'm sure little Goldilocks over there would agree. Wouldn't you, Little Miss Blondie?"

"I-I...uhhh..." Skylar began, stammering.

"Hey! Why don't you leave her alone, Micah?! See, this is what you are. You're unpredictable. You're a ticking time bomb! You're always set up to ruin something good!"

Everyone looked over at Lenny, who was standing up and facing Micah with contempt.

"Just stop it, Micah. We were having a good lunch until you decided to be a piece of shit."

Micah laughed.

"Oh. Boo hoo hoo. Look who decided to grow some balls. Didn't think a darkie like you could be capable of speaking out."

Charles, Tilly and all the black workers present in the room immediately glared at the man.

"And also…just how in the hell did the likes of you get invited to some fancy meal when y'all don't even deserve it? I mean…shouldn't you savages just go back to eating people?"

"Micah, that's enough." said Charles, standing up. "If you don't stop…"

"Or what?"

"Mr. Bell, if you're going to keep up with this attitude, why don't you just go outside?" Susan suggested. "It's humiliating."

Micah gave in.

"Alright. Alright. I'll shut the hell up. If it makes you lameasses happy."

He burped loudly and picked up his plate.

"Later, cowpokes!" he said with a laugh as he walked outside.

Everyone stared at him in disbelief as he "accidentally" bumped into a worker.

"Whoopsie! You should be more careful there! Idiot."

He slapped the worker on the side of the head and walked outside, the door slamming shut behind him.

"There a wall around here I can punch?" asked Arthur.

"Please. Don't. I just got new wallpaper." Felicia commented.

Everyone returned to eating, wanting to pretend that the whole altercation never happened. Several people at the secondary table tried to calm Lenny down. But it was no use. He was steaming mad.

"Mr. Summers, come with me. Maybe you can go cool off for a while." said Reverend Orville Swanson.

Lenny could only nod in response as the Reverend and Sadie led him outside to help him regain his composure.

"That boy was Lenny, right?" asked Herman. "The one who stood up for my daughter?"

"That is affirmative." Arthur replied.

"That kid has guts." said Herman, impressed. "I admire that."

"I guess I underestimated him…" said Williamson. "He ain't so scrawny after all."

"Lenny's a recent addition. But he's…he's a good kid." said Dutch.

"We went drinking in Valentine together not too long ago. Didn't end well." added Arthur with a laugh.

"For what he did standing up for my daughter like that? I think he deserves a reward." Herman spoke.

As the afternoon rolled in, the gang stepped outside to enjoy their surroundings for a while. Terry led Tilly and Mary-Beth to the stables to show them the horses. The rest of the men just sat around drinking some booze as they shot the breeze and watched the day go by. Zachary brought some of his old toys over to Jack for him to play with, while Abigail watched. Miss Grimshaw and Felicia just sat talking about things women normally talked about. Sadie and Charles stood leaning on trees by the beach, watching the waves wash up against the shore.

"So, what do you think?" Herman asked Dutch.

"Quite the place, Herman." said Dutch. "Right by the Gulf too!"

"Yep. Perks of living next to the sea? No need to head out of here to go to the beach. We have our own!" said Herman.

"We're gonna be experiencing this as well when we get to Tahiti." said Dutch. "Ain't we, boys?"

The others, Molly O'Shea included, hooted in agreement.

* * *

Lenny sat on a fence, staring at the ground in contemplation. He didn't feel particularly happy, thanks to Micah's utter douchebaggery. Things were going so well up until that point.

_"Oh well. Nothing I can do about it now."_

Then, he heard someone approaching behind him. He paid no attention. That was until, he smelled a flowery scent standing right behind him. He looked to his southeast and saw Skylar standing there.

"Oh." said Lenny, surprised. "Hey there."

"Hey. You feeling better now?"

Lenny nodded his head in an answer.

"Yeah. Just needed to cool off for a while."

"My pa told me to give this to you."

Skylar held out something in her hand. Lenny saw clearly that it was a rabbit's foot, a good luck charm. Along with it was some money.

"Wow." he said, taking the items. "You didn't have to. Thank you."

"We had to. It's the least we could do. It's the Ravenwood way of saying thank you." Skylar responded.

Lenny took a moment to eye the blonde over. She was a tall girl, but a little shorter than him, around five foot ten. Her eyes were still sparkling as when he had first seen them. She reminded him so much of Jenny.

"I'm Skylar. In case you haven't figured it out by now." she said, extending her hand.

"Lenny." the young man responded. "Nice to finally meet you."

They shook hands.

"Likewise." said Skylar with a smile.

She then sat on the fence, causing redness to spread throughout Lenny's face.

"Look. I just wanted to say…..thank you." said Skylar. "For sticking up for me."

"I had to." said Lenny. "I couldn't let Micah keep you down and let you just take it all. He was being a prick."

"You sound like my big brother." Skylar said with a snicker.

"And…I'm assuming this is a good thing?" asked Lenny to confirm.

"More or less." Skylar replied.

Lenny noticed the cross necklace around Skylar's neck.

"What's your religion anyway? You don't follow Norse religions?" he asked her.

Skylar giggled.

"Well, my family and I…we're actually Catholics, believe it or not. My ancestors converted a long time ago. They used to follow Norse religions, but not anymore. They still liked talking about ancient Scandinavian folklore and mythology, though." she told Lenny. "The rest of the family still does."

"Interesting."

Skylar giggled again.

"Okay. Enough about me. So, tell me about yourself." she said to the man beside her.

Lenny was stunned.

"Me?"

"Who the hell else, cowpoke?"

"Alrighty, then. First of all, I'm 19-years-old. How about you? How old are you?" asked Lenny.

"Just turned 18 a few days ago. Sooooooo, I'm turning 19 as well! Next year at least." Skylar replied.

"Cool! We're pretty much the same age. Belated happy birthday, by the way."

"Aw, you're too kind."

"Well anyway…first of all, my daddy was an educated man, taught me everything he knew. I joined the gang a few months ago. Haven't left them since. They're my family, as far as I'm concerned. And I'm a fun-loving guy. And I like to play Five Finger Fillet."

Skylar's eyes widened.

"Five Finger Fillet? Careful now. Otherwise, you might end up rupturing a blood vessel in your hand."

"What about you? What do you like to do?" Lenny asked the girl.

Skylar pondered for a moment.

"Well…I like to sing, play the guitar, draw, write in my journal, read..…"

Lenny noticed she was blushing.

"You okay?" he asked. "You're a little red there."

"Sorry! Sorry! It's just….this is the first time I ever opened up to a boy one-on-one." Skylar replied.

"It's okay! It's okay! That's fine. Don't be afraid. We're all nervous the first time we talk to somebody. Ain't nothing wrong in that. It's good that you're opening up. We get to know each other more." Lenny reassured the girl.

"Oh my God! You're a lot nicer than most of the guys I meet whenever I'm out in public!" said Skylar.

"Good to know." Lenny replied.

They both started laughing.

* * *

Sadie watched the waves in reflection of past events. Being at the ranch made her look back at memories she had with her late husband, Jake. And what life could've been if them damn O'Driscolls never showed up.

She imagined, for a moment, what it would be like to once again work alongside her husband on duties around their home. What it would be like to once again play the harmonica for him. What it would be like to once again wrap herself around him.

All these thoughts eventually became too much for her and soon enough, she choked back a sob. It was loud enough for Charles to hear.

"You okay, Mrs. Adler?" he asked.

Sadie lifted a hand.

"I'm good. I'm good. It's just…memories…came back and…"

"About your husband?"

Sadie wiped away some tears that were starting to leave her eyes.

"Oh God. I'm sorry. Probably shouldn't have said that…" said Charles.

"No. No. You didn't trigger them…" Sadie assured him.

"Look. We've all lost people we cared about. I can relate to you so much." said Charles. "That's why we're all here for each other. We make each other feel comfortable, we talk. Blow off some steam. I'm sure your husband is glad that you found people who can look after you now that he's gone."

Sadie sniffed.

"You know what? You're right. I'll…I'll try to remember that. Thanks, Charles."

"Anytime, Mrs. Adler."

"Mr. Ravenwood! Mr. Ravenwood!"

Everyone's attention went to a colored man, who was a worker, running towards the drinking fellers.

"Harry. What is it?" Herman asked the worker, standing up.

"We...we's dug up something, sir. We seen a fresh pile of dirt in the ground that we's never dug. Curiousity got the better of us and so we dug and we hit somethin' hard. Figured you's gotta check it out." Harry replied to his boss.

"Okay. Okay, Harry. Lead the way." Herman ordered calmly.

"Yes sir."

Harry ran off. Herman gestured to the others to follow him.

"We'll follow you." said Dutch.

Sadie and Charles watched as the other men and the women followed Herman.

"Should we join 'em?" Sadie asked Charles.

"Something curious is happening. Might as well go check it out." the Native replied.

They joined the rest in following Herman's way.

Skylar and Lenny were still sitting on the fence chatting when they noticed the others running by.

"What's happening?" Lenny asked.

"No idea." Skylar replied. "Come on. Let's go and see what the fuss is about."

Both youngsters joined the rest in heading out onto the open clearing behind the house. There, everybody saw a hole in the ground, surrounded by several workers, who were clearing away the dirt on the buried object.

"Here, sir." said Harry, showing the open hole to his boss.

Herman walked up to the workers in the hole.

"What's the occasion, boys? Harry told me about this." he asked.

"We hit something, Mr. Ravenwood. Must be a box or anything similar." a worker responded.

"Harry said that you boys saw that it was a fresh pile in the ground. Without any grass. Is that true?" Herman asked.

"Yes, sir. But I need to tell you, we never dug a hole here." the same worker once again answered.

"Clear the dirt off the object. Let's see what's buried." Herman ordered.

The workers cleared the dirt away until the object was revealed. Said object was what appeared to be a large box.

"Is that a coffin?" asked Hosea.

"Looks like it." Nick responded.

"Open the box." ordered Herman.

But the workers did not budge. They felt something strange. As if they were being watched.

"Men, go on. Open the box."

The workers reluctantly looked at each other and decided to do what they were told. So, they opened the box.

What everyone nearest to the hole saw shook them to the very core. Reverend Swanson, although he wasn't too near to the hole, began muttering a prayer.

"Mother of God…" muttered Dutch.

Inside the box was the fresh corpse of a man. He was wearing an outfit stained with dirt. His hands and fingernails were filthy, as if he had dug into the ground himself. There was blood on the sides of his mouth.

But the most sinister part was…

…his eyes.

They were wide open.

Staring.

Giving off an inhuman look…

The workers standing in the hole weren't moving. They were just staring into the eyes of the sight lying below them. And so were those standing just near to the hole.

In a rare moment, silence had fallen over the Ravenwood ranch. Not one person had uttered a word. Mainly because they couldn't even begin to comprehend with what they were seeing.

"Papa, what is it?" Skylar asked her father, breaking the silence. Lenny slowly pushed her back as he stood in front of her, in order to protect her.

"It ain't…exactly a holy sight. Keep your cross on. Don't take it off." Herman said to his daughter.

Skylar clutched her necklace.

"What in the hell is that thing?" asked Arthur.

"I don't know. But one thing's for sure…it ain't human." said John.

"Okay. Okay." Herman began, planning something. "Here's what I want you boys to do. Terry, gather some firewood with Mr. Li, Mr. Roberts, and Mr. Torres."

"Will do, pa." said Terry.

The other three men assigned with him followed him.

"Harry, go fetch a match."

"Yes sir, Mr. Ravenwood."

Harry ran off to go and light a match.

"I'm gonna need some men to lift that body out of the coffin."

"I'll help." Arthur volunteered.

"Me too." said Charles.

Dutch approached Herman.

"How do you know this is going to work?" he asked.

"You'll see." Herman replied. "I've done this before."

Moments later, Terry, Mr. Torres, Mr. Roberts and Mr. Li arrived, carrying the firewood needed. At the same time, Harry arrived with a lit match.

"You four." Herman said to the ones who carried the firewood. "Put the firewood together and build a pyre. We don't have much time. We need to do this before the sun goes down."

The ones who brought the firewood immediately complied, managing to build the pyre in less than seven minutes.

"Good. Now Harry, put the match in the pyre." Herman ordered.

Harry did so. The result was a roaring blaze that would make people sweat buckets.

"Okay. Those carrying the body, go and throw it into the fire. Don't stand too close to the flames."

Arthur, Charles, and a few other men lifted the body out of the ground and carried it towards the burning pyre. Carefully, after a three-count, they threw the body into the flames.

Everyone watched in surprise as the body jerked and moved around in the flames as if it was having a violent seizure, letting out unearthly screams and cries as it did so.

The corpse's carriers backed away in shock. Abigail covered Jack's ears as she pulled him into her chest. The rest were just standing rooted to the ground, taking in the sight in front of them.

"Unbelieveable…" muttered Hosea.

Nobody moved. All they did was watch the body burn until nothing remained but ashes.

* * *

"The plague is ready to be unleashed, my liege." Vernand said to his master.

"Very well. Hand me the serum."

Vernand handed the serum, which would grant whoever drank from it the power of necromancy and the ability to spread powerful strains, to Van Drake, who drank from it.

"Excellent work, Vernand." said Van Drake. "And now, I assume that the time has come?"

"You may now unleash the plague, master."

And with that, the all-powerful ancient vampire raised his arms.

* * *

The sun rose up over the hills as a new day came into fruition.

"Roll call!"

Ellis and his fellow workers stood together as they were prepared to work.

"Daniels?"

"Present!"

"Stevenson?"

"Here and ready, sir!"

"Davis?"

"Here!"

"McKinney?"

"At your service, sir!" Ellis said enthusiastically.

"Elliot?"

There was no reply.

"Elliot?"

The workers looked around, searching for the missing coworker, but he was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Elliot?" asked the supervisor.

"I heard him coughing an awful lot last night." Ellis spoke up. "I think he must've been sick or something."

"Sick?"

"Yeah. He told me he came down with something. A fever maybe? The guy was sweating buckets and he kept saying he was aching all over real bad. Severe fatigue it looked like. I asked him if he needed to go get a doc. He told me he was fine." Ellis clarified.

"Did you see him when you woke up this morning?" asked the supervisor.

"Yeah, but he was still asleep." Ellis responded.

"Davis, weren't you the last one to leave your cabin?" the supervisor asked Keith.

"Yeah." Keith responded. "He was still out cold."

The supervisor immediately began to get worried.

"That's strange. We…we should go check on him."

The men immediately walked into the cabin to check on their coworker. From the house, Zoey watched, intrigued by the sight. Ellis caught sight of her and waved at the girl. She waved back.

The supervisor led his men to Elliot's cot, where he was still sleeping.

"Elliot? Elliot, wake up." the supervisor ordered, shaking the sleeping man. The man didn't move.

"Elliot?"

Someone looked over to a corner. Said corner was right beside Elliot's cot.

"Is that blood?" he wondered aloud.

"What?"

The supervisor turned the man over. He reacted in horror as he saw blood all over Elliot's mouth. He wasn't breathing and his skin was deathly pale.

"Feel him for a pulse!" said one of the workers.

The supervisor checked for a pulse. Nothing. And the man's skin was ice cold.

"No pulse. His skin is cold too…" said the supervisor, his face draining of color.

Everyone immediately got together to try and revive the man. Despite their best efforts however, it was no use.

"McKinney…"

"Yes, sir?" asked a worried Ellis.

"Tell Mr. Tyler to bring in an undertaker. We got a dead man here."

* * *

Thomas Downes lay in bed, dying from his tuberculosis. His wife and son were at his side comforting him, being sure to stay with him until the end came.

"Thomas…how are we gonna pay back that debt?" Edith Downes, wracked with sobs, asked her husband.

"I don't…I don't know…Mr. Strauss…he *coughs* loaned me so much…"

"We'll lose everything! His gang's gonna come kill us!" said Edith.

"I hope he sees…that…*coughs* money ain't…everything…"

"Just a little more, pa." Archie Downes reassured his father. "It'll be okay."

"Look after your mother…Okay, son?" Thomas requested for the last time in his life.

With that, he closed his eyes. And after one last shaking breath, his chest fell. And rose no more.

"Pa?" said Archie.

Thomas didn't move. His tuberculosis had finally finished him off.

Edith immediately broke into sobs.

"No!" she cried. "Thomas…"

Archie hugged his mother as they grieved together.

"Ma, come on. Let's…let's bury him."

"In a minute…" Edith answered her son.

The two of them walked over to the kitchen.

"What're we gonna do, Archie?" Edith wondered aloud.

"Maybe repay them when we can?" he responded.

"We ain't got the money to repay him!" Edith clapped back.

"What else can we do?" asked Archie.

"I don't know!" his mother replied.

Suddenly, Thomas' body jerked, getting the attention of Archie and Edith.

"WAH! Thomas?" questioned Edith.

Archie held his mother back as he watched his father stir in his bed, despite the man having died just mere minutes prior.

"Thomas?"

Another jerk.

"Pa?"

And another.

"Thomas? Are you okay?"

With one more jerk, Thomas suddenly sat up and turned his head towards his wife and son.

"Thomas?"

With a growl, Thomas opened his eyes.

They were a solid, bright neon green.

* * *

**The idea for the Draugr Stone was taken from Sleepy Hollow, and the open eyes scene was taken from Salem's Lot (obviously), just to clarify.**


	6. Who Are You?

**In case anyone is confused, this chapter takes place the day before the dead start to rise.**

* * *

"Where is your camp, old man? WHERE IS IT?!"

Uncle could only groan as he was smacked in the face by some tough guy.

What could've gone wrong? He thought all he was gonna do that day was head over to the saloon. Drink himself half to death maybe? Wallow in his own filth afterwards? Hm. Maybe. Well, that was not the case. Instead, here he was, battered with cuts and bruises and bleeding from his nose and mouth. Surrounded by nearly a hundred men and women and boys and girls who seemingly came out of nowhere.

"I…I dunno what you're talking about…" he said to his captors.

He could only watch nervously as David unsheathed his katana.

"You tell me, old man. Where is Dutch van der Linde? You're with him, ain't ya?" he questioned the old man.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Don't you lie to me. I've seen you riding alongside him. I heard your name too. You're Uncle. That's your name, right?"

"No! No! My name is Jeff! And I don't know where Dutch van der Linde is! I wanna bring him to justice just like you do!" Uncle cried.

"Lying again, huh? You know what we do to liars?"

"No. Please…have mercy. I got lumbago!"

David and his operatives just laughed in response.

"Lumbago? What the fuck is that shit supposed to be?" he asked.

"It's a serious medical condition!"

"I don't give two fucks about medical conditions, you goddamn geezer. So, you better tell us now."

He grabbed the old man and lifted him up with one hand.

"WHERE. IS. YOUR CAMP?!"

With his right hand, David pressed the tip his sword into Uncle's throat. One more inch and the blade would slice through the flesh, leading to the old man ultimately dying from severe blood loss and from choking on his own blood.

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you!" Uncle blurted out, tears streaming down his face.

He sobbed as the other Bad Bloods watched him.

"Want me to kill him?" Mike offered up.

"That's my job, you greasy fool." David replied to his friend.

"We…we're farther from here. We're at Beaver Hollow. By a cave and right by the river. Now please just let me go…" Uncle said through sobs.

David smirked, satisfied to see the old man finally broken.

"All we needed to hear."

He threw Uncle onto the ground.

"I'll give you 20 seconds to get outta here." he told the old man. "20, 19..…"

Uncle quickly mounted Nell II and rode off as the Bad Bloods watched.

"To Beaver Hollow, then?" asked a Bad Blood.

David shook his head in response.

"We ain't going to Beaver Hollow."

The other Bad Bloods stared at him, confused.

"He was lying. I know it. I don't believe they're in Beaver Hollow. They're somewhere nearer."

"Then, how'll we find them?" asked Mike.

"Easy. Just follow his horse tracks." David replied. "That should lead us right to their camp."

"You always was the best tracker in the gang." a Bad Blood commented.

"Ain't no doubt in that." Shinoda replied with an evil grin. "Let's camp here for now. Let's go get them at midnight. That's the best time to strike. Catch 'em off-guard."

He looked up and watched the flocks of birds fly through the sky. His eyes narrowed.

"Not a lot of birds fly in flocks this time, boss." commented a Bad Blood.

"I noticed that too. Shouldn't flocks that much be flying during the winter?"

"Yeah, but the weirdest thing is, summer's approaching fast. So why's it right now that they're flying out? Why this early? It ain't even the middle of the year yet."

David's eyes narrowed further.

"This is honestly strange. It don't seem right."

* * *

Dutch and company arrived back in camp, still shaken by what went down at the Ravenwoods' place. They hadn't expected such a fine day to end the way it did.

Francis, holding a flask of whiskey in one hand and his precious Litchfield Repeater in the other, walked up to the arriving gang members. He was both amused and curious when he saw their faces.

"Whoa there! What went on? Some fancy ass meal that must've been, huh?" he commented, trying to initiate a conversation.

No one replied.

"It was…quite an…interesting visit, Mr. Knox." Dutch said to Francis.

"Seen a ghost or something?" Francis asked jokingly with a smirk.

Dutch just shook his head and headed to his tent.

"What? What'd I say?"

"We saw something strange, Francis." said Hosea, coming up behind Francis. "We found a dead body in the ground. Eyes were open for some reason. We threw it into the fire and it…started shrieking and jerking while it was burning."

"Jesus. That don't sound like it was human."

"No. It wasn't."

"A vampire, maybe?" Francis joked,

"Enough with these vampire jokes, Francis."

"Ah. You know me."

The conversation was interrupted by loud moaning noises coming from a nearby tent.

"Will you two shut up?!" Francis said to the source of the noises.

"Shut it, Francis!" Sean MacGuire's voice replied.

"Yeah! Go and wallow in your own filth, you greasebag!" Karen Jones replied from the tent as well.

"Yeah. They've been in there all day." Francis said, turning back to Hosea.

"Spare me the details. The day was already bizarre enough." Hosea replied.

"Oooookay, then."

Abigail then so happened to look at the entrance to the camp. Her eyes widened at the sight of someone approaching the camp on horseback.

"Oh my God..." she muttered.

She ran towards the arriving person. It was an exhausted, badly beaten Uncle, slumped on his horse.

"Oh sweet Lord…"muttered John.

Several of the others ran to Uncle and helped him off the horse. Sean and Karen had also emerged from their tent to see what was going on.

"Dutch! Dutch! Uncle's here! And he's hurt real bad!" said Pearson.

Dutch, Hosea and Arthur all came rushing up.

"My God. What happened, Uncle?" questioned Hosea.

"What's going on? Tell me." Dutch demanded.

"In a minute, Dutch. But right now, we gotta get this man to bed." said Susan.

Uncle was carried to his cot by Pearson and Williamson. He was set down and he lay down, trying to relax. Mary-Beth and Tilly came over to administer the medicine he needed. Dutch knelt next to Uncle.

"What happened out there, Uncle?" he asked.

"We got a problem, Dutch."

"What kind of problem?"

"I ran into some folks at Diablo Ridge. They wasn't too friendly. There was many of them too…"

"How many?"

"I dunno. There was so many of them I couldn't count. 50 to 90, maybe? Some of them was kids. Or teenagers at least. Whole group was diverse. The leader who beat me was this big Oriental man with a sword. And he-"

"What?!" several of the gang members gasped.

"Say that again? Who was the leader?!" Dutch questioned.

"This big Oriental man with a sword. He was the size of a boulder, Dutch. I didn't wanna upset him too much. He was either gonna beat me to death or jam that sword into my throat! I told him that we were camped at Beaver Hollow. Good thing I did, because they won't be able to find us now."

But that did nothing to take away everyone's dread.

"Oh my God. Oh my God…" said John, pacing.

"Uncle." Dutch began, turning pale. "That Oriental with the sword you described? That was David Shinoda. He's Byron Blackwood's lead enforcer and the best tracker in the whole Bad Blood Battalion. Even if you lie to him, he won't fall for it. He's a very smart man. Wherever you go, he'll find you. He'll follow your tracks. And now, he's gonna find us. The man is like a predator. Do you know how many people he's killed?! That sword of his has tasted a lot of blood!"

"Oh…" Uncle sighed in defeat.

"What do we do now, Dutch?" asked Arthur.

"We have to leave." Dutch replied. "We go to Lemoyne, move nearer to the Ravenwoods. Stay there for now until we find a better location to move to."

"But Dutch, Shinoda's still gonna follow us. As you've mentioned, he's the best tracker in the Battalion." Hosea piped up.

"I know." Dutch said grimly, looking to the ground. "But what choice do we have? We need to take our chances."

Hosea and Arthur looked at each other.

"When do we leave?" Arthur asked Dutch.

"Early tonight. Not too long after the sun sets. The Bad Bloods love to strike during the dead of night to catch their targets off-guard. So, start packing up. We need to move now."

Everyone looked up as massive flocks of birds flew through the orange sky.

"What's with all the birds flying lately?" Abigail questioned.

* * *

Herman sat in the living room, drinking a glass of vodka, reflecting on the events that transpired previously in the afternoon. He couldn't get the image of that living dead thing out of his head. Its deathly pale skin. The blood around its mouth and neck. Its goddamn glowing eyes…

"They can't be back. They just can't be." he said to himself. "I thought we drove 'em off the country by '65?"

Moments later, his daughter walked into the room, her expression being one of curiosity.

"Papa, what happened back there?" Skylar asked. "Why was the body screaming and jerking while it was burning?"

Herman shook his head.

"It's nothing important for you to know."

Instead of barging out of the room, Skylar sat herself on the sofa, facing her father.

"Daddy, there's no use keeping secrets."

"I shouldn't tell you about this. You're too young."

"I'm 18-years-old now! I'm a young woman, an adult! I should know about things like these now!"

"I know Arthur's been training you in gunfighting all these years, but I don't think that what's going on right now is something you're ready for!"

"I'm not ready for what?"

Realizing that his kid wasn't gonna budge until she got an answer, Herman sighed in defeat.

"Okay. I'll tell you. Years ago, there were reports of vampires across America. People mysteriously turned up dead, here and there, often with puncture marks in their necks. You know I was a soldier for the Union Army. I heard horror stories from other soldiers of the horrors they saw out there. Bloodsucking fiends being among those reports. Didn't believe a word of it until I saw one for myself. I saw one of them things, tearing into the neck of a kid. The poor, poor boy. He didn't have to die so young. After the War, led by Lincoln and some vampire buddy of his who weren't so bad as we thought, we drove the vampires out of the country. All was well over these years after it was told that they fled. But now…it looks like they're back."

There was silence between father and daughter for a moment.

"Vampires? They exist? I thought it was just mythology." said Skylar. "How did you know what to do when you saw that thing in its grave awhile ago?"

Herman shrugged.

"Just a lucky guess."

Then, he leaned forward.

"We got a lot of silver bullets, don't we?" he asked his daughter.

"Yeah. May I ask why?"

"Nothing important. But we'll need 'em."

Frowning slightly, Skylar stood up and walked upstairs to her room. She sat down on her desk and began writing an entry.

"_So today, we found a dead body. No ordinary dead body, though. That thing's eyes were open, and they looked like they were glowing. My God, were they hypnotizing. Daddy gave the order to burn it, so Terry and some of the workers built a burning pyre. Arthur, Charles, and a couple others threw the body into it. The body was shrieking and jerking around as it burned in that piece of hell. Never seen anything like that before. All I could do was watch while Lenny calmly held me back._

_Daddy's been acting real weird since that incident awhile ago. Some things he don't wanna tell me about. It ain't like him. He mentioned vampires existing and asked me if we had silver bullets. When I told him that we had those things, he said we were gonna be needing them. Again. Strange. Not sure why. What does he think this situation is? A certain goddamn Bram Stoker novel?_

_Then again, I always love a good horror story."_

* * *

Rochelle and Louis walked out of the Rhodes Parlour house. The former looked frustrated. The latter looked intrigued.

"Bar fighting? Cool idea for an event my book!" said Louis.

"Goddammit. I just wanted to ask them one simple question about this town and the Grays and the Braithwaites." said Rochelle, frustrated. "But nooooo, being the animals they are, they just ignored me and went on rambling like idiots and throwing fists."

"But it was pretty entertaining, though!" said Louis with a smirk.

"Shut it."

The two of them walked down the road and back into the main town. They decided to stop by the gunsmith. They were informed that the area wasn't very safe due to the presence of the Lemoyne Raiders in the area, so they went to the gunsmith to guy guns to protect themselves in case anything happened.

"Wait. You're making us buy guns?" asked Louis.

"The protect ourselves, dicktard. You wanna just die if the Raiders try to rob us?"

"Good point."

The duo walked in through the door.

"Evening there! You two looking for anything?" asked the gunsmith.

"Hello! Yes. We'd both like to purchase weapons, please." said Rochelle.

"Alrighty then!" said the gunsmith. "Have a look around. I got a bunch of options in the catalogue."

Rochelle opened up the catalogue. She and Louis looked through the sidearms, since they preferred anything not too big and easy to conceal.

"I'll take a Schofield Revolver, please." said Rochelle.

"Great choice!" said the gunsmith as he set the gun on the counter. He then looked at Louis. "And you, sir?"

"A Semi-Automatic Pistol will do."

"Okay!" said the gunsmith, placing the other weapon on the table.

Rochelle and Louis both paid the gunsmith and took their weapons, putting them in new holsters they just purchased as well.

"Mister, I'm curious about this town. Don't the Grays control this place?" Rochelle asked the gunsmith, attempting to interview him.

"Oh, as a matter o' factly, they do." replied the gunsmith. "They been here over a hundred years now."

"And how long have they been feuding with the Braithwaites?"

"Their feud with the Braithwaites began in 1806, when Lucille Braithwaite gave the location of a large sum of gold to Douglas Gray. So, he stole the gold in order to fund the abolition of slavery. Then, both sides thought that the others stole their treasure. So, there you go. That's how they started fightin'."

"THANK YOU." said Rochelle. "I've been trying to get an answer for the entire evening. Nobody was kind enough."

"Well, I suggest you be careful around here, the both of y'all." warned the gunsmith. "Small town, but you never know what could happen."

"Thanks for the advice." said Rochelle. "Well, you have a good night now."

"Be safe now." said the gunsmith.

Louis and Rochelle walked out of the shop and back down onto the street.

"I wanna point out that one sentence of his." said Louis. "That we can never know what could happen."

"To be fair, there're a lot of Raiders here in this area. I wouldn't be surprised if they just rode by us and shot somebody. Good thing we bought protection." said Rochelle.

"Indeed."

Neither of them noticed a strange figure watching over from a nearby hill. The figure then got on all fours and dashed into the night.

* * *

It was around midnight.

The streets of New Orleans were filled with dark fog. A chill hung in the air was people walked home. Lawmen patrolled the streets, keeping watch.

Coach hummed a tune as he walked home. He noted that the night was strangely quiet. Normally, he'd hear crickets chirping, and every now and then, an owl hooting. But on this night, for whatever reason, he heard none of these.

Suddenly, bats flew across the night sky. And a wolf howled in the distance.

Coach found all this to be very peculiar. This had never happened before. It was all very strange to him. It was as if Dracula had probably moved into the city, bringing his predatory minions with him.

Deciding to take a shortcut, he decided to pass through the cemetery. A chill ran down his spine as he walked past the gravestones in the dark fog. It was a gloomy feeling.

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. He stared at something up ahead in the distance.

"Good evening, sir! Just passin' through." he said to somebody in his sights.

Sure enough, there was a man staring at him from the distance. The figure appeared to be wearing a top hat and a suit. He said nothing to the cook, only staring at him intently.

"Anyway…you have a good night now." said Coach.

Again. No response.

Coach thought this was odd, but instead brushed it off and continued walking. The figure didn't move, though. He was still standing in his exact spot. At this point, Coach was already becoming increasingly uncomfortable. As he approached the spot the man was standing, he had a strange feeling about him. It wasn't positive. But it wasn't negative either. But he felt like there was something about the man that was more than meets the eye. He just couldn't exactly put his hand on it.

As he walked past the man, the man said something to him.

"You will meet some remarkable people, Mr. Briggs."

Coach stopped, surprised. How did the man know his surname?

"Y-you know my surname?" he asked.

"I know a lot of things about a lot of people, Mr. Briggs. And I must warn you of something ominous coming in the near future."

"What kind of ominous thing?" asked Coach.

"A plague has just been unleashed. And soon, there will be mass panic. But you will have a role to play in ending this evil."

"What kind of role?"

"When the time comes, you must leave the city and head west. Go to Lemoyne first, because that is where you will meet some friends. Together, you will fight on a mission. A mission to restore peace and order to this country before it falls beyond restoration. Believe me." said the stranger.

"O-okay. I guess I'll take your word for it." said Coach. "But…just who are you anyway, mister?"

"I'm an accountant…in a way." the figure responded.

Coach blinked.

To his surprise, the man wasn't there anymore.

He looked around searching for the mysterious man. But he had disappeared into the fog.

Indeed, in the blink of an eye, it seemed.


	7. Some Things You Should Know About

As the sun entered its final stages of setting, the Van der Linde gang was busy packing their things. Knowing that the Bad Bloods could strike at any moment during the night, they made sure to not take too long in doing so. Most of the gang members were carrying things onto their wagons, while some of the men watched the perimeter, guarding the area and keeping a look out for anyone suspicious.

Suddenly, Charles, who was standing near the entrance to the camp, caught sight of something, or someone.

"Hey! I think I see some people!" he said.

The others froze.

"Bad Bloods? Pinkertons?" Dutch questioned.

"Not sure." Charles replied. "If anyone is there, please give us an answer!"

"Don't hurt us, son! We mean you no harm!" said a voice.

Moments later, two elderly men on horseback rode up into the camp.

"This the place? The cliff overlooking the river? Plus. There's a whole group of people here." Hamish asked his friend.

"I think so. Looks like it."

Suspicious, Dutch stood up from his seat and walked over to the new arrivals, with Arthur and Hosea right behind him.

"Who are you two? Are you spies, per chance?" Dutch questioned, preparing to draw his revolver. Arthur and Hosea stood beside him.

"Spies? For what?" Overbeck questioned, confused.

"Pinkertons? Bad Bloods? O'Driscolls?"

"We was soldiers during the war, but we were never spies." Hamish replied.

"We're telling the truth, son. We don't work for any of those people you mentioned." said Bill. "We don't want any trouble. Please. All of you just…put your weapons down. We can talk about this."

"Pfft. Yeah, right." said Francis.

"Bullshit." John commented.

"Are you sure you ain't trying to rob us?!"

The others began muttering and blabbering at the same time.

"Everyone! Please!" said Hosea. "Let's just…hear these men out."

"Thank you." said Bill, getting off his horse, followed by Hamish who did the same.

"Speak your names. Make it quick, cause we're gonna be leaving this place soon." said Dutch.

"My name is Sergeant William Overbeck, but you can call me Bill. That there's my friend, Lance Corporal Hamish Sinclair. We're veterans of the war. Listen. Are you folks aware of any strange activity goin' on in these parts?"

* * *

Hosea poured some whiskey into two glasses, and handed them over to the two strangers. Hamish nodded in thanks.

"Not too long ago, I had this…dream. I was back on the battlefield in Gettysburg. I saw a wave of Confederate soldiers coming towards me. They looked real strange. I think I remember seeing such faces that day, but my memory ain't as sharp as it was." Bill explained his dream.

"What did they look like?" asked Dutch.

"Pale, black veins running through their bodies, teeth as sharp as a wolf's…"

Arthur turned towards him.

"Forgive me, Sergeant. But did you just mention that those soldiers had sharp teeth?"

"Affirmative, son."

"I had something similar. A dream as well." said Arthur. "The…mother of my child…she…she tore my throat out."

"Plus, we came across the sight of a massacre at that ranch not too long back. Everyone there? Blood completely drained from their bodies. Animals? Completely eviscerated." Charles spoke up. "No human could have done that."

"And the dream I had about Bessie biting me. These dreams we had are all mighty strange." said Hosea. "I feel like there's something evil coming."

"I don't know what the hell is going on." said Dutch. "Are you sure this ain't just some coincidence?"

"No. I don't believe it is." said Bill. "Just awhile ago, Hamish and I met a blind man. I dunno, but he may have been some prophet."

"How so?"

"He was the one who told us to come here to New Hanover and meet a group of people encamped on a location overlooking the river." Bill explained further. "And now, we met you."

"Good thing you did."

Hosea looked back at Dutch.

"Dutch, I told you. The dreams must've been a sign. A sign of something far darker than we could have ever imagined." he said.

"If this is the case, then really should move on to a safer place. It's a good thing we're leaving tonight." said Dutch.

He looked at Bill and Hamish.

"You two are more than welcome to join us for the time being."

"Thank you." said Bill.

"It's for the best." Hamish agreed. "I think we should tag along with you."

Dutch nodded.

"Okay, then. Now, let's get moving. Sun's down, the moon's rising rising up. Bad Bloods could be here anytime. Time to go."

* * *

In the dead of night, the Van der Linde gang and the two new arrivals rode through The Heartlands. They were once again heading to the Ravenwoods' ranch, where they were going to stay for the time being. Javier was not present among the gang members, as he had already been sent to Lemoyne by Dutch earlier in the evening to inform the Ravenwood family that they would be crashing at their place for a brief time.

"So you two fought in the war?" Dutch asked the elderly veterans.

"Yessir." replied Overbeck. "We fought in Lemoyne years ago, marched into Saint Denis to take the city from the rebels."

As Overbeck and Hamish shared their war stories with Dutch and Hosea, Arthur rode up next to Charles.

"You heard of the Bad Bloods before?" he asked curiously.

"Of course. Who hasn't?" the Native replied. "The Bad Bloods really do stay true to their name. They're mercenaries, murderers; remorseless, ruthless, amoral, vicious hunters who kill for sport. They're feared all across the frontier. In addition, they're composed of over four thousand men and women, boys and girls. Unlike most gangs like us, these guys are practically an army. And they use fear and intimidation as a weapon to their advantage. Sometimes if you're in the forest and if you hear any strange whistling nearby…you better get out of there quick. Because that's how the bad Bloods like to play with their victims. If you take too long in the woods trying to find the source of the whistling…you're done for. It's only a matter of time before they turn you into another one of their trophies."

"Ran into any of them before?"

"Thankfully not. But I did see them from a distance once. They ambushed an entire convoy of stagecoaches. Massacred everyone. Dragged the poor people screaming out of their coaches. After that, it was a bloodbath. In my opinion, be thankful you weren't there. Because that sight still haunts me to this day."

"I can imagine."

"The people say that Blackwood has the heads of victims cut off and mounted on pikes to mark the areas his people inhabit, and to warn off any potential trespassers. You trespass? You'll be killed on sight. No questions asked."

"How many territories they got?"

"Plenty. All across the country. In fact, because of how massive their numbers are, the whole gang's divided into chapters, divisions. What we're dealing with right now is the chapter Blackwood is leading. And they're the ones who always keep moving. Most of the time, Blackwood has David Shinoda do his dirty work. But at other times, he will personally show his face to any prominent, powerful person he and his gang are dealing with, such as Leviticus Cornwall for example. Because he wants his face to be the last one they see as he kills them."

"What about Shinoda? Anything you know about him?" Arthur asked Charles further.

"Sure do. You've seen him yourself, right? Big Oriental man. Japanese, I think. Blackwood's lead enforcer. Ex-military as well. Served for two years before returning to the Bad Bloods. His time in the military weren't a pleasant one, though. During his service, he was subjected to discrimination because of his race. Every day he served his country, they still spat at him, brought him hell. That's probably one of many reasons why he burned his old base down and killed everyone in it. He's just like what you are to Dutch. To put it simply, he's basically the Bad Blood counterpart to you." said Charles. "He carries a traditional Japanese samurai sword with him all the time. He's killed plenty of people with it. I guess that's why many people in these parts fear katanas."

"And I assume they're afraid of samurai too?" Arthur asked jokingly.

"Maybe. But we'll never know." Charles replied.

"Shinoda thinks he's so big and scary. Well, I'll show him big and scary. Plus, that sword of his is just a testament to how small his Dick Johnson is." Arthur joked further.

Charles chuckled slightly.

"It may be funny to you, Arthur. But I should warn you, you should be careful who you joke about. For all you know, that person could literally be the death of you."

"Well at least I'll go down swinging. Even if it means getting cut in two by that ridiculous sword of his." Arthur replied.

Back with Dutch, Hosea and the elderly veterans, Dutch suddenly had the idea to ask the two old men more about the Bad Bloods.

"Say. You two have heard of the Bad Blood Battalion, haven't you?" he asked.

"Of course. Hamish and I. We knew Byron Blackwood. Dangerous man." said Overbeck.

"What's your history with him?" asked Hosea.

"He was a Union Major in the war." Hamish began. "He was the type of man to always jump into a fight. Someone who never stayed out of anything. Someone was always doing what was necessary to win. Honestly, he scared most of us. Nobody questioned his orders, out of fear he would do something to them. But he treated his men like they were his brothers and sons. So, that was one positive quality."

It was Overbeck's turn to speak up.

"One day, I saw him chatting with Jefferson Harper, a Confederate Captain who we imprisoned that day. Little did I know that Harper would end up being Blackwood's second-in-command and co-founder of the Bad Bloods. Apparently, Harper read some of the books Blackwood kept and became enamored with anarchism. When the war ended, they teamed up and that's when their reign of terror began."

"Blackwood and Harper recruited both Union and Confederate veterans who felt they had no purpose after the war, and fed them their anarchistic ideology. Then, they took in young men. And eventually, the gang expanded even further. They brought in women, minorities, homeless folks, families living in rough times. Hell. Even immigrants. A lot of 'em. Basically everybody who felt left out and felt like they had no place in society."

"As far as I'm concerned...nearly one thousand people have laid dead at their feet. They shot up entire towns, completely wiped out the populations until there was no one left. They offered any survivor a chance at life if they joined the gang. Anyone who refused would pay the price. Often, with lethal brutality occurring to them."

Everyone who listened to this was silent. Even Micah had been listening the whole time, and he had an intrigued look on his face.

"How much to bring Blackwood in?" asked Morgan.

"He has amassed a $10,000 bounty on his head. However, David Shinoda's bounty is $2,000 more than that. He's still more dangerous than anyone in the Bad Blood Battalion. Not to mention Blackwood's fiercest disciple. There's a reason why people call him The Hound of Byron Blackwood." Hamish responded.

"And now he's after us…" said Dutch. "If he finds us, he won't bring us in alive."

"You better pray he doesn't. He's a brilliant tracker, as much as I hate to admit it." said Charles.

* * *

"Dutch van der Linde! You here, you bastard?!" called out Shinoda as he and his subordinates arrived at Horseshoe Overlook.

They found the place empty.

"Dammit. They all left." said Mike.

David snarled.

"Why the hell is Van der Linde so smart? How the hell did he know we was comin' for him?" David muttered to himself.

"Old man must've cracked." said a Bad Blood.

"Lumbago Man? Oh, when I see him, I'm snapping his spine in two! I'm gonna fold him in half with my BARE GODDAMN HANDS!"

Seething and wanting to get his rage out, David walked over to a tree that looked like it was about to fall over, since its trunk appeared to have been nearly completely chopped away by an axe. With all his might, he delivered a powerful kick to the tree trunk. The end result was the tree falling over and crashing onto the ground.

Shinoda breathed heavily, and he stared back at his allies. All were staring at him, mouths open and eyes widened.

"What in the hell?"

"How the hell did you…"

David walked back towards them, and growled as he walked past.

"_Kuso…_"

He turned back towards his men.

"Pass the message to the others. Tell them we're splitting up to work faster. There are around ninety of us or so. In my opinion, it's better if we split up. The faster we work, the better. So let's split ourselves into three groups."

Using his enhanced tracking skills, he observed that the tracks left by wagons and horses were now heading southeast of the camp.

"The direction of Lemoyne…"

David looked at two other high-rankers nearby and called them over.

"Calaway, you lead thirty or so men and ride to Saint Denis. Check there. See if they're scattered around the city in hiding. Helmsley, you lead thirty or so men as well and check the swamps. They could be in Lakay. It's an abandoned settlement, so it's likely they could be there. I know that place well."

"Understood." said Calaway with a nod.

"Yes, sir." Helmsley spoke.

Calaway and Helmsley went off to gather their respective posses. Shinoda then gathered his own posse.

"The rest of you. Ride with me! Scarlett Meadows!"

So, the small army of Bad Bloods all mounted their horses and went their ways. Calaway and Helmsley led their men towards Bayou Nwa while Shinoda led his in direction of Scarlett Meadows.

"Think Javier Escuella's gonna be there?" asked Rodriguez.

"Most probably. Why?" Shinoda asked his friend.

"You just leave him to me. I'll be the one to put that _perro_ down."

"Suit yourself,_ amigo_. As long as they're all gone, I'm happy. And you leave Morgan to me."

"I always admired Morgan. Strong feller." said a female Bad Blood.

"So do I." Shinoda replied. "But let's see how he fares in a fight against me."

He smirked as he clenched his right fist.

* * *

A little before midnight, the gang finally arrived at Ravenwood ranch. Javier was chatting with a few ranch hands when he saw them.

"Good! You're here!" he said to his friends.

Several of the workers came to assist the other gang members with some of their belongings. The gang members on horseback got off their horses. Javier soon laid eyes on the two newcomers who had arrived at camp after he had left it.

"Who're these two _viejos tiempos_?" he asked.

"Two Civil War vets who came into the camp after you left. Apparently, they been experiencing weird things as well." said Arthur.

Just then, Herman came out of the house, followed by Terry and Skylar.

"And you have returned, I see." he said.

"Hello again, Herman. If you don't mind, can we stay with you for awhile? At least until the day after tomorrow? Ol' Uncle got into some bad situation and now we're on the run from David Shinoda and the rest of Byron Blackwood's men." said Dutch.

Herman looked a bit worried. Mainly because he had just found out his allies were being pursued by the Bad Bloods, and to make matters worse, it was the deadly tracker known as David Shinoda who was leading them. But being the type of man who would never turn his back on a good friend, Ravenwood agreed, as earlier, he assured Javier he would take him and his friends in for a little while.

"Alrighty, then. We got some spare rooms available. So, come inside and make yourselves feel comfortable."

"Lovely!" said Hosea.

"You have baths, don't you?" asked Mary-Beth.

"Yep! Don't worry. Just ask any of the helpers to assist you." said Terry. "And don't worry. Water's warm."

"Yes!" said Mary-Beth and Tilly, rejoicing.

"Oh thank God. I can finally wash greasy pig's scent off of me." said Nick, regarding Francis.

Francis was not amused, and threw a cigar at Nick's head, hitting him in the process.

"Ow!"

"Not cool, my man."

"Great! Let's head in!" said Dutch.

The gang members all entered the house, all ready for a good night's rest. Some of the workers stood guard outside, patrolling the ranch, just in case anyone suspicious showed up.

Skylar waved at Lenny with a huge smile on her face as she walked up to him. Lenny smiled and awkwardly waved back as he rubbed the back of his head.

"In case you want, would you like to sleep with me in my room tonight? Bed's comfortable. And I got a bath in case you wanna get yourself cleaned up." Skylar offered. "Best not try anything stupid with me, though."

Lenny turned red, clearly not expecting this offer.

"I never really had that luxury before, so…I guess my answer is…yes."

* * *

A few servers in the house carried mugs of hot chocolate on platter, serving them to the Van der Linde gang members and the two elderly Civil War vets. Uncle received a mug too, and he was happily resting in one of the guest rooms while recovering from his injuries that he received earlier in the day.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am." Arthur said as he thanked a maid before taking a sip of his drink.

Herman cleared his throat as he prepared to say something.

"So…about this afternoon…"

"Yeeeaaahhhh…" Arthur was the one to answer.

There was awkward silence in the room for a moment. Nobody spoke. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire in the fireplace and a few people in the room slurping their cocoa.

"Herman Ravenwood, is it?" Overbeck asked the mustachioed Ravenwood patriarch, breaking the silence.

"That is correct. Union Army, 2nd Minnesota Volunteer Infantry. Apologizes in advance and I don't mean to brag, but many folks may know me as the one who got a record 265 kills in the field in a six-hour time frame."

"So it IS you!" said Hamish.

The gang members looked confused.

"Some of you probably don't know this, but Herman here was pretty well-known back in the war. He charged into many battles with his heart beating with pure determination. Even saved an entire battalion by himself one time. Good kid. Strong young man he was." said Overbeck.

"Is that so?" asked John.

"You never told us about that." Arthur told Herman.

"It's true. I suppose it was a matter of time till you found out." said Herman. "You know Dutch, I knew a Bartel van der Linde. Killed in the field in Pennsylvania in '63. Gettysburg. Good soldier."

"That's my daddy…" said Dutch.

"I had a feeling. He told me he had a young boy. 8-years-old, the age you would've been at that time. All he wanted was to do his kid and family proud. Such a shame he didn't make it out of the field alive."

"Well, let's give a toast to my father, then. May he rest in peace." said Dutch, raising his mug.

"Amen."

"So…ol' Overbeck says he had this dream recently." said Arthur.

"What kind, Sergeant?" Herman asked Overbeck.

"Well, you see, I was back on the field in Gettysburg. And…the Confederates running towards me looked mighty strange." Bill began.

"Let me guess: Sharp teeth, pale white skin, pulsing black veins?"

Everyone was shocked.

"Yes! How…how did you-"

"Some of you may not know, or may not remember this at all. But back then, there were reports of vampires. A whole lot of them. I remember there was one officer who entered our camp pale and breathing heavily. Told us that one minute, he had his men fire at the oncoming wave of Confederates. Then suddenly, at the next moment, all the Confederates running towards them just went…poof. Disappeared in the blink of an eye. Next thing you know, the officer just looks back. His right-hand started choking up blood and then saw a hole punched through his own chest. The other men were just lying on the ground unmoving. Dead. Officer looked back even further and saw that those damn Confederates were already charging through the defenses, as if they just teleported right there." said Herman.

Once again. Silence.

"So, uhhhhh…does anyone have any brandy?" Williamson spoke up.

"Check my mom's liquor cabinet." said Skylar.

"Thank you."

Williamson disappeared into another room to get some said brandy.

Micah snorted, unconvinced by Herman's story.

"You're crazy. How do we know you ain't just making up horror stories for the sake of entertainment?"

Herman hmphed, clearly not amused with Bell's assumption.

"I have had far too many experiences with these creatures to be making up any fictional tales, Mr. Bell. I can assure you, I have never lied in my life."

"So, it's true…" said Overbeck. "There were vampires after all…"

"You don't remember anything about vampires existing?" asked Herman. "Didn't you say you were at Gettysburg?"

"I was…but…last thing I remembered when I was there was getting hit in the head by something. After that, I woke up, and…I had no memory of myself fighting any strange-looking Confederates."

"Well, the fact is, you were fighting vampires right there." said Herman. "You may not remember it, but Gettysburg was the final charge against the Confederate vampires. I was there. I experienced it myself."

"Well, combined with amnesia, I drank a lot after the war to try and forget everything that happened." said Overbeck.

"Bingo. I suppose that's why you have no clear memory of the vampires. Amnesia after getting hit in the head plus drinking to forget about the horrors you saw in the war. That's the perfect explanation for why you don't remember."

"I guess it is…"

"So, what was that thing that we all saw in the ground this afternoon?" asked Charles.

"Plus, the way it screamed when it burned in the fire? No human can make shrieks like that. As far as I'm concerned, only animals can." said Nick.

"Not to mention those Satanic eyes of his." Reverend Swanson added.

"And his pale skin? The blood on his mouth and clothes?" Leopold Strauss pointed out further.

"And you told me to hold onto my necklace, which just so happens to be a cross. A sacred object. Why is that, papa?" Skylar asked her father.

Herman had a sad look on his face.

"I'm afraid that thing in the ground…was one of them. That's why you heard it shrieking and screaming the way it did when we burned it. It weren't dead, but it weren't alive neither. All these years I thought we finally drove them out of the country for good. Even before Lincoln was assassinated, there were no more reports of any vampires lurking about and killing any innocents. But after what we saw today...I fear they may be back."

* * *

**Translations:**

**Perro (Spanish) - dog**

**Viejos tiempos (Spanish) - old timers**

**Kuso (Japanese) - shit**


	8. Who The Hell Is Nosferatu?

Early morning had arrived. The birds were still chirping as they always did, deer still sprang around the woods and some drank from the streams, folks in the area were still going about their daily routine, Giaguaro was still looking for his prey. Things were relatively normal. For now at least.

Skylar was riding to Rhodes to pick up a few things from the general store, as she always did. But even as the sun shined brightly in the clear, early morning sky, she still couldn't forget her father's story from the night before.

"_Vampires. Is that why daddy was asking if we had silver bullets? Ain't silver a vampire's greatest weakness besides faith?"_ she thought to herself.

As she rode into town, she saw that everyone was still going about their day as they always did. That was good to know. Although she noticed that some of the people she normally saw around town weren't present. Skylar frowned. That was odd. Where were they?

"Mornin', Skye." a man greeted her as he walked past.

"Hello, Hank." she greeted back with a smile. "Wonderful weather we're having!"

"Sure is, young lady! Sure is!"

Skylar got off her horse, a white Arabian named Winterfrost, and led it to a nearby hitching post. There, she tied the animal to said post and fed it an oatcake for its troubles.

"You be a good girl now. I'll be back in while." she said to it, affectionately stroking its head.

She approached the general store where a trio of colored men were hanging around outside. She took notice of them and smiled at them.

"Mornin', gentlemen! Alfred, Elijah, Caesar." she greeted them.

They happily greeted her back.

"Mornin', Miss Ravenwood! How is things going with you and y'all's family?" asked Alfred.

"Doing great, Alfred. Hey. Listen. I need to ask y'all something."

"Anything for you, my lady. What you need?"

"Have…you noticed that there're a bunch of folk that ain't out here today? I mean…I see them all the time. And this is the first time I ain't seein' them around town. So personally, I'm concerned." said Skylar.

"Oh, I heard they's sick, Miss Ravenwood." said Elijah.

"Sick?"

"Yeah. 'Parently, they's all caught somethin' real bad. I heard from one fella that his wife been throwin' up blood. Lot's a blood."

"That don't sound good." Skylar muttered.

"And it ain't just the folk around here gettin' sick. Animals too. Dogs, cattle, horses, deer…" Caesar added.

"My Lord. I didn't know it would be that bad." said Skylar, her hand over her mouth.

"I pray to the Lord for their recovery. Even though some of thems treated us badly…it still wouldn't be right to damn them." said Alfred.

"You're a good man, Alfred. I knew I liked you for a reason." stated Skylar, giving a wink to the man.

"What can I say? The Lord says to love your neighbor as youself. Even if they's bad to you."

"Listen. I appreciate y'all telling me about this. If anything gets worse, please don't hesitate to let me know when you see me." Skylar told the men once more.

"Ain't no problem at all, Miss Ravenwood." said Caesar.

"Good. See you boys in a while." said Skylar, waving at the men, who did the same back at her.

She entered the store, where proprietor A.J. Banks was currently cleaning the counter.

"Ah. Good morning, Miss Ravenwood." said the store proprietor as he put the cloth aside.

"Morning, Mr. Banks. Wonderful weather we're having." the tall blonde girl greeted back.

"Sure is, my lady. Anyhoo, what do you need?"

"The usual."

"Sure thing. I'll prepare them for you. "

"Thank you kindly."

As Banks prepared the items, Skylar decided to ask him a few things about the strange plague.

"So, I've been told that people are getting sick?"

"Oh yes indeed." Banks replied. "Bunch of folk ain't feeling well. Something wrong with the animals too. I'm thinking there must be an outbreak of something."

"Is it really bad?" Skylar asked. "A friend told me that someone's wife threw up blood."

"That's true, I'm afraid. And it's bad." Banks replied. "From what I know, the sick start feeling lightheaded, then the fever comes. Sweating profusely is another symptom. After that, there comes some violent coughing and throwing up of blood. Sometimes even severe aggression towards others."

"Oh dear…"

"To make things worse, a feller came from Saint Denis just awhile ago. Said that people are starting to get sick there too. And I think it's gonna be way worse over there considering that's a city. And you know how many folks there are in the cities. I think it's spreading." Banks added further.

"Jesus Christ in a handbasket. That's awful…" Skylar muttered.

"I know. I'm thinking of getting out of here for a while before things get too bad. After all. Better safe than sorry."

"Absolutely. I know what you mean."

A.J. finished putting the items together, and he handed the bags to Skylar.

"Here you go, darlin'."

"Thank you, Mr. Banks. I wish you well." Skylar said with a smile.

"Same with you. Be safe now."

Skylar exited the store and stored the items on Winterfrost, then she mounted the horse and started going in the direction of her home. But just before she could continue riding, she noticed a one-legged man, who appeared to be a Confederate veteran, standing outside the store.

"Miss Ravenwood!" said the man.

"Ah. Mr. Butler. A pleasant morning to you." Skylar greeted him.

"You're a nice young lady and all. But I suggest you leave town while you still can. People are getting real sick. And I need to say it looks bad. I don't want you to catch the illness they have."

"I'm making sure of that, Joe. I think I got it covered."

"Good to hear. Anyway, take care now, darlin'."

"And you."

They waved at each other one more time, and Skylar continued her morning ride back home.

"Has anyone seen Gavin?"

Confused, Skylar looked in the direction of a certain man in a hat and a blue suit who was walking down the road. He had a worried look on his face.

"I'm looking for Gavin. He's my best friend. He left me...I lost him, I mean. I lost him. Someone must have seen an Englishman...really funny he is."

Skylar rode up beside him.

"Hello there, mister!" she greeted the man. "I ain't ever seen you around here before. You new here? Migrated?"

"You could say that, young lass." said the man. "Listen, have you seen...I'm looking for my friend, Gavin."

"I don't know any fellers around here named Gavin, I'm afraid." the blonde girl replied, rubbing the back of her head.

"English bloke. Lovely feller. He went missing and, uh...now I'm all alone."

"Oh I'm so sorry, mister. I really wish I could help you."

The man looked down on the ground in defeat.

"That's uh...that's too bad."

"Listen. If I see any English feller anytime soon, I'll let you know, okay?" Skylar reassured the man.

"Well. Thank you, lassie." said the man.

"Anytime. Good luck to you now." said the young woman.

As she rode home, Skylar reflected on what she had been told while in town. How people were getting sick. How bad their symptoms were. The animals getting sick too. This wasn't normal, she knew. And from the looks of it, people were inevitably going to start dying. Then, she started thinking.

"_Yesterday, we saw what daddy described was a vampire. That thing lying in the ground with blood all over its clothes and its eyes wide open. The very same thing that shrieked and screamed like some animal when it burned in the fire. Today, I ride into town and now I'm told people are getting sick. And even animals too. Why the hell is that?"_

For the first time in a while, her usually upbeat and positive attitude disappeared. And she couldn't help but think.

"_There's something strange going on here."_

In the distance, the same distinct English accent pierced through her thoughts.

"Gav?! GAVIN!"

* * *

In northern Lemoyne, the relative peace in the area was broken by the sound of a body crashing through a window at a homestead. The owner of the home lay on the ground outside completely battered. But he was still alive and breathing heavily, albeit heavily wounded and severely weakened, unable to get up on his own strength.

The Bad Bloods standing guard nearby merely laughed at him.

"Ohhhhhhh! Bloody hell! That has gotta HURT!" one of them exclaimed.

"Awwwww. What kind of animal did this to you, partner?" another asked in an exaggerated, dramatic tone.

Shinoda jumped out through the broken window. Some of the Bad Bloods who had entered the house with him followed him outside, while a few others remained inside the house watching the whole ordeal.

"I'm gonna ask you one more time. Have you seen any large caravan of people pass through here?" Shinoda hissed.

"I…already…t-told you…"

Shinoda squeezed the man's broken arm with his boot.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

"Yeah. You like that, don't you? YOU LIKE THAT?! HUH?! YOU LIKE THAT?!"

"OKAY! OKAY! I'll tell you!"

The homeowner had finally broken down into tears. The Bad Bloods stood over him, satisfied with seeing him in this broken state.

"Last night…I…was sitting on the porch…then I saw some people ride by…one of them l-looked…an awful lot like Dutch van der Linde…"

"And where were these folks heading,_ gilipollas_?" asked Rodriguez.

"I-in…the direction of…Rhodes…I planned to…go after 'em…today…"

"Shinoda!"

The Bad Bloods looked at one member who was exiting the house.

"I found this. Van der Linde's Wanted poster. Guy's been keeping it. Just as he mentioned, probably to go after Dutch and his boys. And probably to get the bounty money as well."

He handed the poster over to David, who chuckled. He looked back down at the homeowner.

"So. That why you didn't wanna tell us where they were going? So you could go get 'em yourself?" he asked the wounded homeowner.

The homeowner nodded weakly.

"I see."

Shinoda put the poster in his pocket and noticed an axe lying on a nearby tree stump. Grinning evilly, he gestured to one of his henchmen to fetch it and hand it to him.

"Wh-what're you doing?..." the confused homeowner asked.

The henchman walked back over and handed the axe to Shinoda. The weakened homeowner was shaking his head repeatedly with a look of pure horror on his face.

"N-no. I…I ALREADY TOLD YOU WHAT YOU WANTED TO KNOW!"

"You've been helpful, mister. But the fact is, you're just trash now. We use trash until we don't need it anymore. And when we don't need it anymore, trash has got to be disposed of. And besides…"

He gripped the axe with his two hands.

"I'm gonna need a home for this."

He raised the axe.

"NOOOOOO-"

SHWACK!

SHWACK!

SHWACK!

* * *

Ellis and his coworkers watched as Elliot's body was taken away by the undertaker. They were all shaken by the sudden loss of their fellow worker. Elliot had been very productive during his time working for the Tyler family. He was very hardworking and showed nothing but pure dedication to his job. If you saw him at work, you could see the passion in him, the fire in his heart, his utmost desire to get the job done right. In addition, he was kind, friendly, helpful. Someone that could easily be relied on. He was always there to lend a hand.

Wade Tyler was kind enough to give his workers a day off to mourn their fallen comrade. Everyone took turns telling stories and saying a few words about their coworker.

"That one time I had a hard time repairing a hole on the roof of the house. Elliot came up and asked if I needed any help. We got the job done together in a matter of fifteen minutes. Would've taken longer if I had done it alone." said one worker.

"I remember when he dove into that pond just to save a kitten. One-of-a-kind feller. He will be missed." said another.

"The fact that he was always there was a testament to how great of a worker he was." said Keith.

"Amen."

"McKinney. Anything you like to share?" the lead worker asked Ellis.

"Sure do!"

Ellis stood from his seat and went up front to give his speech. He cleared his throat and stared at all his fellow workers. In the distance by a tree he saw Zoey, watching him. She gave him a reassuring nod. He nodded back at her. So, he cleared his throat.

"Y'know…when you start workin' someplace new, it's scary to you. Yer with a…bunch'a folks you don't even know. It's hard, the simple fact is. But eventually, you get used to it. And those folks you don't even know become yer family. First time I met Elliot, I could really see the skill and dedication he had to doin' his job. The feller was impressive. DAMN impressive. And when he weren't working, he was the nicest feller you could meet. I remember those times when him and I would sit down for a meal or drink a beer and just talk about life. The last talk I had with him, he said to me, "Life is short, McKinney. If I were you…make the most of it. Live every single day of your life as if it was your last. Have fun and be happy." And I sure as hell will. Those words will live with me forever. Fellers, there ain't no use being so mad and negative all the time. Because when yer gone, people ain't gonna be too sad to see you go. They'd be thinkin', "Finally. One less angry bastard in the world. Even if in death, he's still angry." So put on a happy face! Be positive! Live! Love! Laugh! Be happy yer in this world. Because life is a gift. It's God's greatest gift to us. Every single day is worth living. Yer friends, yer family. You bring them happiness just by being there. Make y'all's existence count. Y'all remember that. All of ya."

He raised his glass.

"To Owen Elliot."

Everyone else raised their glasses as well.

"To Owen Elliot."

They all drank in tribute.

As the other workers continued their talks with each other, Ellis walked over to Zoey. She beamed at him as he approached.

"That was beautiful, Mr. McKinney." she said to the young worker.

"I know. But not as beautiful as you, hopefully future Mrs. McKinney." said Ellis as he caressed Zoey's face.

Zoey giggled.

"Oh, Ellis. How I wish we could run away together. Just a shame daddy wants me to marry some rich boy. From New York or Saint Denis or New Orleans…That ain't the life I want, honestly."

"Maybe you still can break free from this life. Even though it may not be now, you could still get the chance to live your own life one day. Hopefully soon." Ellis reassured her.

"Hopefully." said Zoey. "I just wish daddy could be as supportive as my mama is."

"Yer mama's a fine woman. You best be lucky to have someone like her in yer life."

"I know I am." said Zoey with a smile.

"How about you and me have a stroll at the beach later? Tonight?" Ellis suggested.

"That would be just lovely." said Zoey.

Ellis looked back at his coworkers and friends.

"I best get back to it now." he said.

He turned back to Zoey.

"I'll see you later, my sweet."

They kissed.

"Wouldn't miss it."

Zoey went her way back to the house while Ellis returned to his coworkers.

"So anyway. What'd I miss, gentlemen?"

* * *

The stagecoach ride to Saint Denis wasn't too long for Louis and Rochelle. As they were lucky enough to be staying in Rhodes, which was not too far. To them, Lemoyne was a strange, yet interesting place, filled with gators and lunatics.

"Thank you so much." said Rochelle as she paid the driver.

"So this is Saint Denis?"

"Yes, Louis. This is Saint Denis."

"It's…pretty much just New Orleans." the young author commented.

"Yeah. But this is worse in my opinion." Rochelle stated.

The two friends looked around at the city. Of course, like New Orleans, the place was filled with people bustling about, musicians playing their instruments, lawmen standing around watching the streets, ambitious folk promoting their bullshit. Just your typical city in the West.

"Should we get going? Wanna buy a few things from the general store first?" Rochelle asked.

"Why not?" said Louis.

As the duo started walking to the general store, Louis eyed the buildings and the monument with interest. Although the experience in the city wasn't very productive at the moment, Louis was still eager to learn more about the place.

"What do you know about this place, Rochelle?" asked Louis.

"Well, this place is the state capital of Lemoyne, and is situated in the southern half of Bayou Nwa on the banks of the Lannahechee River. It also just so happens to have the most extensive public transport system here in these parts. As you can see, there're a bunch of trolleys here."

They looked over at a trolley picking up a few passengers.

"How convenient. Good to know there's at least one good thing here." said Louis.

"In terms of the more powerful figures, the mayor of this city is Henri Lemieux, who seems pretty shady to me. This place is also home to well-known crimelord, Angelo Bronte, who has a lot of control over the city too. Hell. He even has the police in his back pocket."

"Corrupt police?" Louis asked with exasperation in his voice.

"I know. Ugh. Anyway. A few other well-known folks here are newspaper tycoon Hector Fellowes, former Confederate Major Hobart Crawley, women's suffrage activist Dorothea Wicklow, notorious French artist Charles Châtenay, and Aurelie Delacroix, a young but powerful woman who is rumored to have connections to the Bad Blood Battalion."

Chills ran down both friends' spines.

"Oh God. I hate those guys. They're terrifying." said Louis.

Rochelle nodded in agreement, before explaining the city further.

"It's also here where the riverboat called The _Grand Korrigan_ operates. And it is very famous for holding gambling tournaments."

"Jesus. How do you know all these things about the cities you go to?" Louis asked his friend.

"Oh trust me. It's part of my job." said Rochelle. "It's stressful, but educational too!"

"I think I wanna write a book set in Saint Denis. Could be suspenseful or mysterious, maybe." said Louis.

"Whatever makes you happy, buster."

As they arrived outside the store, Louis noticed something written on a wall.

"What's that?"

"Huh?"

"Looks like a writing." said Louis, pointing out some words on the wall.

"What does it say?" asked Rochelle.

"Let's take a look. It's right there."

The two inspected the writing closely.

_"FIVE BONES UNDER THE PERFECT STAR NOSFERATU WITH DOMINICA WILL BECOME MORTAL AGAIN."_

"What or who in the hell is Nosferatu?" Louis questioned.

"I-I don't know…" Rochelle answered back.

None of them noticed a man collapsing nearby, and people immediately ran over to help him.

* * *

Coach was just going about his daily routine. Of course, he was happily doing his job cooking for those who came to dine at the restaurant he worked at. But even with his positive attitude and the big smile on his face, he still could not forget his encounter with the strange man he saw in the cemetery the night before.

"_I'm an accountant…in a way."_

And the man had disappeared after that.

Goosebumps ran through his body upon remembering those words.

Who the hell was that man anyway? Why did he disappear in the blink of an eye? Why was he talking about a plague and something ominous coming? What did he mean when he said there would be mass panic? What did he mean by the country falling apart?

So many questions ran through Coach's head. Nothing made sense to him.

Was the man some sort of psychic? Was he a dabbler in the occult? Was he just some lunatic? Was he a magician? Was he a superhuman? Was he just a figment of imagination? Was he a prophet?

Or was he a ghost?

"_I honestly don't even know anymore…"_

As he walked home that afternoon, he once again stared at Beaulieu Manor. His heart sank to his stomach. That place had always given him the creeps.

Looking closely, he saw two men walking around the perimeter. He did not know why he had that feeling. But he felt that something was strange about them.

First of all, why were their faces so pale? Coach knew for a fact that Beaulieu Manor was rumored to be haunted. So that would make sense.

But to his surprise, he saw a colored man walk up to the two strange-looking men. However, unlike the two pale men, the colored man looked very much alive. His skin was not pale. And he was clearly interacting with the men. If the two pale men were ghosts, then the colored man would've likely just passed through them because he would not have seen them. But no. He was speaking with them.

Coach ducked behind a wall and overheard the conversation.

"Has there been any word from Nosferatu yet?" asked the colored man.

"Well, I picked up a letter from Saint Denis this morning, Vernand. It appears to be addressed to Mr. Van Drake." said one of the pale men. "It is most likely from Nosferatu."

The pale man handed the letter to Vernand, who opened it.

"Ah. Good. Very good. It is indeed from him. We must inform Master Van Drake."

Vernand and the two pale men disappeared into the house. Coach looked out from his hiding spot and saw that the coast was clear. Breathing a sigh of relief, he continued on his way home. And even more questions came to his head.

"_Who the hell is Nosferatu? And more importantly…"_

"_Who the hell is Van Drake?"_

* * *

Skylar arrived back at the ranch, and over lunch, discussed the recent news she had heard from Alfred, Elijah, Caesar and Banks with her family and the other gang members.

"People are getting sick. Animals too. A.J. Banks told me of some pretty nasty symptoms the sick folk are having, including throwing up blood and aggression towards others. I think something mighty strange is going on. A plague, it seems. Banks told me he plans to get out of town for a while to avoid catching whatever the hell is spreading. And Joe Butler suggested to me that we do the same." she said at the table.

"And I met this weird English feller looking for some friend of his named Gavin."

Despite the concerning news Skylar had brought with her, the rest of the afternoon was relatively peaceful. And for the first time in a while, the Van der Linde gang managed to get a full day of rest.

Near the end of the day, Dutch stood at the beach watching the sunset. No sign of the Bad Bloods at all for the entire day. That was a relief. But although he seemed relaxed, he was worried about the strange plague that Skylar had described. Arthur approached him from behind and joined him at the spot.

"Just so you know, Dutch. Me, Charles and Francis are gonna go look for a new camp spot tonight. And I think young Skylar wants to join us too." he said.

Dutch frowned a bit.

"Skylar? Did you ask Herman?"

"Yeah. He said yes."

"Good."

"Skylar knows Lemoyne by heart, even if she and her family only recently moved here. So, she decided to come with us to help us find a new camp." Arthur added further.

"Oh, how kind of her. What location does she know of?" asked Dutch.

"She suggested Clemens Point. Now, I ain't ever seen the place, but she said that it makes a great spot. By the lake too. Meaning we can fish. But Micah suggested otherwise. He said Dewberry Creek was the way to go."

"Then why don't you check Dewberry Creek first? If that spot doesn't look appealing or suitable enough, check Clemens Point." Dutch suggested.

Arthur nodded.

"Good plan. Although I still prefer Skylar's suggestion. I trust her more than the wretch in the white hat."

"She's a good girl, that one."

"Ain't no doubt in that."

Dutch exhaled loudly.

"Anything wrong, Dutch?" Arthur asked worriedly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but…I'm scared, Arthur." Dutch replied solemnly.

Arthur was shocked.

"Of what? The Bad Bloods? The vampires?"

"Well, yes. But…that plague Skylar described. It sounds…it sounds serious. In my opinion, we really do need to get out of here before things get even worse than it already is. And before the vampires start lurking about once again." said Dutch.

"Don't worry, Dutch. We'll…we'll find a way." said Arthur, reassuringly.

"I know we will." Dutch replied. "Anyway...enjoy the rest of the day, now."

He patted Arthur on the shoulder and went on his way. Arthur remained where he was, staring at the sunset as well.

"Here's hoping to a better future…" he said to himself. "And that this plague passes and those vampires fade into legend for good."

"Arthur?"

Arthur turned around and saw Mary-Beth standing there with a worried look on her face.

"What's wrong, Mary-Beth?" he asked her. "Everything okay?"

"Have you seen Kieran?" she asked.

Arthur scoffed.

"You mean the O'Driscoll?"

"Please don't talk like that! I...I'm worried sick."

"What's the big deal anyway?"

"He told me he wasn't feeling too well. So, he went to go gather some herbs in the woods, because he thought medicine weren't enough. He was…feeling real awful, Arthur."

Arthur brushed this off and turned around to walk away.

"Pfft. He's an O'Driscoll. He..."

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks.

"Wait a minute."

He turned back to Mary-Beth.

"Did you…did you just say he weren't feeling well?"

"Yes, Arthur. And he hasn't come back yet."

"Oh my Lord…" Arthur muttered.

"What? What's wrong, Arthur?" Mary-Beth asked.

He moved closer to Mary-Beth.

"Mary-Beth. I need you to tell me. You said he was feelin' lightheaded, right?"

"Yes. He was dizzy and he felt nauseous."

"Was he coughing?"

"A bit."

"Was he sweating?"

"Yes."

"Did he have a fever?"

"He was burning up when I touched him."

"And he just went to the forest by himself?!"

"He insisted he go himself! I told him no! I begged him to rest! Stay in bed! But no. He told me he was perfectly fine with going to the forest himself to pick out those herbs."

"Couldn't you have just gone by yourself and picked the herbs for him?!" said Arthur once more.

"That's what I was tryin' to tell him!" said Mary-Beth. "But he wouldn't listen."

Arthur took his hat off and rubbed his head, panicked.

"Mary-Beth, I...have something to tell you. You weren't there at lunch when we were told about it."

"What is it, Arthur? What were you told?"

"Skylar mentioned people was getting sick. There's a...plague of some sort." Arthur answered.

"Oh..." Mary-Beth muttered in defeat.

Arthur put a hand on her shoulder.

"Listen, Mary-Beth. If he still ain't back by tomorrow…we'll go search for him. I'll inform the others, see if Herman can gather a search party. I can promise you that."

"Thank you, Arthur. That…that means a lot."

"I know, sweetie. I know."

Mary-Beth hugged him. Not knowing what to do, Arthur just hugged her back. Then, she pulled away and kissed him on the cheek, much to outlaw's surprise.

"Guess I'll be going now. Thanks again, Arthur." said Mary-Beth.

"S-sure."

Mary-Beth waved at him as she walked off. Arthur felt a burning sensation where the girl had kissed him, and, blushing, he chuckled silently as he put his hat on.

"Goddamn O'Driscoll…" he muttered.

* * *

As the sun set over Scarlett Meadows, the apprentice undertaker, Gwyn Hughes, was busy fixing the body of Owen Elliot. Gwyn looked at the corpse in sadness. He had remembered meeting the guy a few times before. One of the most memorable moments he had with Elliot was when they got drunk together at the Rhodes Saloon and had a wrestling match that resulted in the two of them getting kicked out. They had a good laugh about it the next day.

"Fun times." said Gwyn with a chuckle. "Rest in peace, partner."

He patted Elliot's hand and went back to working on the coffin.

As he hammered nails into the coffin, Gwyn did not notice the dead body sit up behind him.

The corpse turned his head in direction of Gwyn. Then his eyes opened.

And Gwyn could not cry out for help and did nothing but choke on his own blood as the seemingly resurrected man overpowered him, tore his throat out and ripped his internal organs from his body, before devouring them hungrily like Giaguaro does to his prey.

The last thing Gwyn Hughes saw before closing his eyes for the last time were the solid neon green eyes of Owen Elliot.

* * *

**Since there have been reports of zombies with neon green eyes appearing in Red Dead Online, I've decided to give the zombies in this story the green eyes as well.**

**Translations:**

**gilipollas (Spanish) – shithead**


End file.
